Abducted
by fortheloveoffaberry
Summary: All she had wanted to do was go on a run and forget about her life for an hour. What happens when she's abducted and forced to face the facts about life head first? Eventual Faberry.
1. Cheshire Cat

**A/N: **This is going to be a really angsty story. It is going to involve things that some people may be uncomfortable with. At the beginning of each chapter I'll supply the warnings for what has been written. Do not read if you're triggered by any of the warnings; I'd rather have you safe, than have you read my story. If you do read my story, thank you so much for doing so. This story has been in my mind for _months_, and I thought it was finally time to put it down. Please review and let me know what you think! It means the world to me. Now, on with the show, enjoy.

**Chapter One:** ~3,400 Words - Published 7/28/2014

**Warnings: **_Kidnapping_

* * *

**Sunday, April 10, 2011**

**1:18PM**

"Mom, I'm going for a run! I'll be back in an hour!"

"Okay, Quinnie! I might be out at Bible study, but text me when you're home."

Quinn called back her grunt of acknowledgement before exiting through the front door. Closing it behind her, she stopped and looked around her street. It was warm today, and a few people were out in their gardens or washing their cars. She smiled and stepped out from under the porch into the sunlight.

She always had loved the sunlight. The warmth it always brought her. It was a promise of a new day. Even in the darkest hours, the sun would be there to guide her. The closest thing to a wish upon a star that she was going to get.

She took a deep breath through her nose, pressed her earbuds in, and with a small quirk of the lips, headed onto the sidewalk of Dudley Road; ready to run until her muscles burned, her lungs ached, and her mind was blank.

* * *

"Have a good time at dance class today, honey," Leroy said as he kissed the top of his daughters head.

Rachel beamed at him and gave a small nod, "Of course, Daddy. Today we are going over the Cheshire Cat lift, I am so excited. Adding this to my repertoire will really bring an extra _shabang_, if you will, to my resume and all around appeal to the Broadway-world directors."

Her father smirked affectionately and handed her the car keys, "I love you, Rae. Stay safe, and call me on your way home. Oh, and if you remember, drop by the store and pick your Dad up some of those SweeTarts he's been craving."

Rachel kissed him on the cheek and nodded, "I'll be sure to do so."

He chuckled and playfully nudged her out the door, "Go on, now."

Rachel batted his hand away and smiled towards him, "I love you, too, by the way. See you later, Daddy."

He waved after her, as she carefully backed out of the driveway and peeled down Birch Hill Road at precisely 30 miles per hour.

* * *

**1:31 PM**

Her breathing came out in labored pants. Her mind was blank, the loud music draining out any thoughts she could have possibly had. Her feet pounded against the crumbled pavement below, her arms swishing back in forth beside her in perfect synchronization. Her eyes were focused ahead of her, occasionally looking down at her shoes; willing her body to take each next step. Her body wanted to quit. Her mind said no.

She was coming around a bend where the trees started to become thicker on either side of the street. This was usually where she started to turn around to head back home, but not today, she wanted to go farther. She wanted to run until she couldn't. She wanted her body to scream at her. She didn't want to listen. She wanted to be blank. She wanted the sun burn her skin, she wanted the music to deafen her ears. She didn't want to feel.

She didn't want to think about school, her friends, glee club, her home life, Bet-. She shook her head; she just didn't want to think about anything.

So, she didn't.

* * *

Her music was like a drug to her. It flowed throughout her and both excited her and calmed her. Her left hand held to the bar beside her while her right slowly and gracefully extended from her body. Her right foot rose to rest on her left knee. She bent her knee slightly before raising and extending her right leg out and around. A small smile graced her lips and she tilted her middle to the right and turned out towards the middle of the room.

Her instructor, Ms. Waters, clapped as she stood regularly.

"Rachel, you're so graceful; you've really improved on your extension," the brunette haired instructor commented before going on to compliment and critique the others in her class. She busied herself by brushing away some lint from her simple black leotard.

"Okay, Rachel and Dominic, come here," Ms. Waters called over.

Rachel shot Dominic a quick smile before they headed over to their teacher.

The teacher gave them a grin, obviously excited for the lift they had planned for today.

"As you two know, we will be working on the Cheshire Cat lift. You two are the furthest advanced in this class so you will be learning the lift first and will demonstrate it to the rest of the class once you've practiced enough."

Rachel nodded excitedly, "Ms. Waters, I think that is an excellent plan. Dominic and I are the best suited to perform this move safely and effectively. I'm very excited that we were so expertly chosen to do this."

Ms. Waters, quite used to Rachel's antics over the years of teaching her, smirked and rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "Rachel, be quiet and go practice the lift. I have a video up, and I'll be over there in a minute to teach you any parts you are having trouble with, after I teach the rest of the group their moves."

Rachel held in her excited squeal as she switch leaped her way across the room.

* * *

**2:02 PM**

She had to stop. She couldn't go on much longer. Her throat and chest burned from how hard she was breathing. She felt like she wanted to puke as she tried to swallow even with her dry mouth.

Her feet slowed and fell against the pavement like dead weight; her sheer willpower the only thing keeping her standing.

And she still had the whole way back to go.

She panted hard and bent down with her hands on her knees. She knew that it was way past the time she should have turned around. The hour she told her mom was definitely not the case; but it's not like her mom actually cared about when she got back.

She closed her eyes tightly and tried not to focus on how hot her face felt or how much sweat was dripping down her back.

Her music blasted away at her ears, she tried to tune into what song was playing, but her thoughtless mind was too clouded from its lack of oxygen.

She couldn't hear or feel anything besides the thumping of her heart.

God, she really didn't want to puke. She hadn't puked since… since Bet-

She squeezed her eyes tighter as she clutched her stomach and emptied its contents into the ditch beside her.

Two waves of retching hit her violently almost knocking her to her knees, but she kept herself steady and thanked God that she didn't collapse. Taking quick, shallow breaths through her nose she closed her eyes tightly and dry retched a few more times until the urge finally stopped.

She swallowed thickly, wishing she had some gum with her. She sighed softly and spit into the grass, pushing her bangs back as she did so.

Her music was still playing loudly in her ears and it was finally becoming more clear; it was Give Up by Knuckle Puck. She focused on the music and mouthed the words silently.

As she walked slowly back down the road towards her home she wasn't able to hear her steps upon the concrete, let alone the van that pulled up right behind her.

* * *

"You did great, Rach," Dominic smiled at her and gave the girl a high five.

She returned the high five, having to jump up a little bit, and gave the boy a broad smile, "Thank you, Dominic, you did quite well yourself. I couldn't do it without you."

The boy gave her a one-armed hug before the teacher addressed the class, "Alright, guys, I'm going to cut class short today. My son, Mikey, has a doctors appointment. If you can't get a ride home, yet, well… too bad."

The class laughed softly at the playful wink the instructor threw their way, and began packing up their belongings. Rachel hummed contentedly as she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked to the car.

It was a good day.

"Hey, Rachel, can I talk to you for a second?"

Rachel smiled and turned towards to voice, "Of course, Dominic. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Dominic rolled his eyes and playfully nudged her shoulder, "Rach, drop the vocabulary for a sec would ya?"

Rachel huffed and crossed her arms, "I will do no such thing, Dominic. I believe that having and using a vast vocabulary in an ever increasing world where acronyms and droll words are used frequently, is a thing to be admired."

The boy smirked and looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye. She gasped and hated herself when a large smile broke across her face, "You're teasing me."

"Wow, I think that's the shortest sentence you've ever said," he winked and laughed as she hit him across the arm, "Anyway, Rach. I, uhm, you were really great today. I was - well, I'll just cut right to the chase - I was wondering if you would like to go grab dinner with me sometime?"

Rachel's eyes widened and a slow smile crept it's way across her face, "Wait, you want to go on a date with me?"

Dominic bit his lip and nodded, "Yes, that's what I'm inquiring."

Rachel laughed, "Inquiring? Are you making fun of me now?"

A grin broke out across the boys face and shook his head, "No, I'm just nervous."

Rachel smiled and nodded her head, "I would love to go out on a date with you, Nicky."

"Alright, that's great. How about tomorrow night, _Elly_?"

Rachel fake glowered at him, but couldn't hide her smirk, "That sounds perfect, Dom."

"Sweet, I'll pick you up and I'll have an awesome date planned out and everything…_ Rac_?"

Rachel laughed at his attempted nickname and gave him a quick hug, "Sounds good, see you tomorrow. Wouldn't want to miss a date with the _D_."

Dominic blushed on his tan features and his eyes grew wide. He called out to her right as she reached the door, "Oh my god, did Rachel Berry just make a sex joke?!"

He smiled as her laughter floated out the door.

* * *

**2:06 PM**

She had put up a fight, as much as her worn out body had let her. She kicked and screamed and bit and punched. She got the man in the groin, but that didn't stop him; even through his pained yelp.

The adrenaline had immediately ran through her when a rough hand was placed over her mouth and an arm was wrapped around her abdomen. She yelled against the sweaty palm, bit down, tasting blood and salt. She wanted to puke again.

So, she did.

"What the _fuck!_" The voice had bellowed as her vomit coated his hand. Her stomach rolled and one, two - no three waves of vomit spilled from her mouth onto the man's hand and shoes.

"You fucking _disgusting_ _bitch! _You're going to fucking regret that!"

Another voice called out, from where, she hadn't been sure; but it was a woman's voice. A scratchy one, as if the woman had smoked her entire life.

"Maybe this one ain't worth it, James!"

The man, or James, Quinn assumed, growled into her ear and brought his knee up hard into her back - she cried out in agony. Her body couldn't handle it anymore. Her mind snapped off, her vision blurred, the last thing she heard was, "Worth it or not, she's going to fucking pay," before she passed out to oblivion.

~0~

And now she had woken up. It was dark. Something was covering her eyes. Her heart was hammering at a million miles a minute. Her mouth felt disgusting and it was a struggle to barely even move her tongue. She strained to hear anything. She really didn't want to alert her kidnappers that she was up. She had watched plenty of Investigation Discovery shows. She knew what was happening, and fuck, she was _terrified_. She blocked off the thoughts of what could - would - happen to her. She focused on evening her breaths and listening for any clues of where she might be. She heard none.

All she heard was the wind blowing past the windows and she felt the movement of the vehicle she was in. She cringed internally at the thought of not knowing how long she had been out for and not knowing where she was. There was no way she could be rescued if she didn't have a clue where she was; it's not like she could call the cops and tell them her location. Because she didn't know her location. Or what time it was. Or what day it was. She didn't know if people knew she was missing. She didn't know if her mom even cared. Tears welled up in her eyes and she took as quiet of a breath as she could, willing herself to not let any tears fall. She was not going to be weak. She had made it through her life so far with an abusive father, a pregnancy, giving up her daughter, bullying, and more. She was strong. At least, she thought she was. This might be the thing to break her.

She was not going to forget who she was, if she could help it. She was going to find a way out. She needed to. Because if she was kept here for too long, she knew that in her fragile state she might start believing that this was where she was meant to be. She would not become a victim of Stockholm Syndrome to the best of her abilities. She was going to remember. No matter how long she was here for, she was going to do her best, to remember.

* * *

**6:47 PM**

"Dad, is it okay if I drive over to the baseball game?"

Hiram looked up skeptically over his reading glasses at his daughter, "The baseball game? Why in the world would you want to go to the baseball game?"

Rachel shrugged and sat next to him on the couch, "To be perfectly frank, I am a bit bored. I thought changing up my night would cure me of it."

He placed his book down before wrapping an arm around Rachel's shoulders and bringing him into her, "Well, I suppose that would be alright. I wouldn't want you going alone though. Know anybody who would like to join you? Also, who has a baseball game on a Sunday school night?"

Rachel rested her head on her father's shoulder and leaned into him, "I'm not sure, but Sam is on the team, so he'd be there. It would be interesting to see a fellow Glee mate participate in another activity that they enjoy. I was also thinking about picking up Mercedes and Kurt."

At that, Hiram laughed out loudly, "Mercedes and Kurt? To a _baseball_ game?"

Rachel huffed, "It is perfectly plausible that they would want to join me."

Hiram laughed, "Yeah, under what guise would you trick them into joining you?"

"Mercedes has a thing for Sam, and Kurt would obviously want to criticize the uniform all while checking out the boys in said uniform," a smirk found its way onto the girls face, "So, see, it's perfectly plausible they'd like to go, too."

Hiram laughed and shook his head, "Any boys there you'd like to see?"

Rachel shook her head and kissed her Dad's cheek, "Nope. Just bored."

He chuckled and kissed his daughters temple, "Alright, go call them."

~0~

She hadn't _lied_ to her father about being bored. No, not at all, she _was_ bored, and she thought that this would be something to entertain her. She had actually gotten a bit excited when Mercedes and Kurt agreed to come.

But, it was more than just boredom that had her itching to get out of the house. Something wasn't _right._ She didn't know what it was, but in her gut she knew something was wrong. She felt antsy and nauseous. She felt like pacing, running, even _punching_ something; and mind you, Ms. Rachel Barbara Berry did not _punch_ things. So, she settled for driving to Mercedes' house first and then to Kurt's, instead of punching something. She clutched the wheel tightly and bounced her leg whenever she had to stop at a light. She put some music on, only to immediately turn it off; it had been annoying to her ears - music _annoying_ to _Rachel_, can you believe it?

She took a deep breath as she pulled up to the Jones' house. She kept telling herself that nothing was wrong. Everyone was okay. There was nothing to panic about. She didn't believe it for a second. She does have a sixth sense, ya know.

Instead of shooting a text off to Mercedes to come outside, she figured that she might need to get some of this energy out of her - no matter how small. She exited the car and practically ran to the front door. She bounced on her toes as she knocked and waited for her friend to open the door.

"Girl, what are you bouncing like a ball for?"

Rachel gulped subtly and used all of her willpower to stay flat on her feet, "Was just something to keep me preoccupied while I waited for you to come outside."

Mercedes eyed her curiously and closed the door behind her, "Alright, girl, whatever you say."

Rachel nodded and walked back as normally as she could back to the car.

~0~

"I'm going to go for a walk, I'm feeling rather restless," Rachel said to her two enthralled friends. After they had talked animatedly about the baseball uniforms and how _"gorgous and sexy"_ Sam was looking, Mercedes and Kurt actually got really into the game. They were yelling about getting the ball and taunting the other team with "Eyyy batter, batter!" It was getting a bit much for Rachel.

She sighed when her friends just said, "Yeah, yeah, okay Rache-; oh what the hell was that number 22!"

She stood and walked over to the concession stand. It was busy and she didn't really think she could handle having to stand still in a line for ten minutes. Her nerves were all over the place; she _knew_ something was wrong. She just couldn't place _what._ It was getting dark and she wrapped her arms around herself as she walked around the park. It was a pretty big place. Three baseball fields were here, each one of them being used tonight. A couple of bathroom areas were close by the concession stand, and a playground wasn't too far off in the distance. She sighed and scuffed her old sneakers against the pavement as she walked towards it.

Her fingers slid along the cold metal of the swing as she sat herself down on it. It was a particularly warm night for April, she thought, as she began kicking her legs back and forth. She gripped the chains in her hands until her knuckles went white, and kicked herself higher and higher. Maybe she could just fly away from this feeling of dread.

The playground was empty, dark, and quiet, but she could hear the cheers and talking from the fields in the distance; it was easy to drown out and focus on the sound of her body sailing through the wind. She closed her eyes and imagined herself as a flying trapeze artist; flying high through the air, back and forth, willing her audience to gasp and cheer when she would seemingly defy all laws of physics.

The air hitting against her cheeks and blowing her hair back helped calm her. She felt like she was able to breath better, even though the feeling of trepidation was still strong in her gut.

The crack of a boot on wood chips caused her to slam her feet (as much as she could with her short stature) on the ground below her, "Who's there? I have a rape whistle! We are not that far off from a mass group of people! I assure you that they would come help me!"

A low, dark laugh came out from behind her, "I don't think you'll want to do that with me."


	2. Dudley Road

**A/N:** To the guest reviewer that didn't understand the last line, it meant that Rachel probably wouldn't want to use the rape whistle with him. Thank you for letting me know that it wasn't understandable, though! Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! Please review. Currently unbetaed.

**Chapter Two:** ~4140 Words - Published 7/29/14

**Warnings:** _Physical abuse; attempted rape_.

* * *

**7:51 PM**

Rachel shrieked, "Noah! You scared me!"

She twisted in the swing to look at him indignantly, holding a hand up to her chest. He smirked and sat in the swing to her right.

"Cool it, Jew Babe. It's just Puckasarus."

Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Do you really call yourself that?"

Puck shrugged and began kicking his legs back and forth, "I haven't swang in ages."

Rachel gently began kicking her legs again, "Swung."

"Swing, swang, swung; whatever," he grunted.

She hummed quietly and swung into the night with Puck; the feeling of dread just barely lessened.

~0~

**8:26 PM**

Puck walked Rachel back over to the stands with his arm around her shoulder. Usually, Rachel wouldn't let him do such a thing, but tonight with the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach she was grateful that Puck was there.

"Are you okay, my hot little Jewish American princess? You seem really on edge or something."

Rachel closed her eyes and let the side of her lip quirk up at the name, "I'm fine, Noah. I'm just… I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. Like something bad is going to happen."

Rachel gave a small yelp as Puck surprised her with a bone crushing hug, "Don't worry too much, lil' babe. I've been having a feeling like that, too, today. Maybe it's, like, the weather or something, ya know?"

She furrowed her brow and rested her head against his chest. It couldn't just be the weather. Something was seriously _wrong_. Like, her house was going to get burglarized, or one of her fathers were going to get hurt. This wasn't just a run of the mill feeling of anxiety. This was a deep in the pit of her stomach _feeling_ that was telling her that something _terrible_ happened, was happening, or was going to happen. It was a feeling that she couldn't escape.

She backed away from Puck and gave him a nod, "Maybe, I guess."

Puck smirked and nudged her shoulder, "If you need me to, I know a surefire way to make you forget everything but my name."

She rolled her eyes and hit his arm before walking away, "In your dreams, Noah."

"Every night, babe!"

She wrapped her arms around herself and hated that he had made her smile. She didn't want to smile right now.

~0~

"Rachel! Where have you been?"

She shrugged her shoulders at Kurt and sat back down beside him. The game appeared to be nearing an end, the Titans up by eight points. She briefly wondered why baseball wasn't as popular at her school, when the team was obviously superior in comparison to their football team.

She rested her head on Kurt's shoulder and immediately regretted the decision when he bounced up forcefully with a "You're a wanker number nine, did you even see the ball!?" She sighed resorted to resting her chin in her hands. This was going to be a long night. If only she could figure out what was wrong.

* * *

The breath caught in her throat when the van pulled to a stop. This was it. She had a choice to make. She could try and run or she could submit.

She closed her eyes against the fabric that was on them and gulped as she heard the two front doors open and feet walk around to the back. She silently thanked Couch Sylvester for forcing the Cheerios to learn breath control, as she evened her breathing and schooled her facial features. She wanted them to believe she was still out. Maybe they would just leave her in the van if she was out.

Yeah, right.

The door flew open and her heart jumped. She prayed to God that her body had remained still.

She still didn't know what time it was, but it was chilly when the door whipped open. It had to be later in the evening - night time even. She really wanted this thing around her eyes to come off.

Heavy footsteps clanked as someone climbed into the back with her. She could feel the persons eyes on her, observing her, sizing her up. She cringed internally and tried her best to not move.

"Fucking bitch," a low voice whispered, "You need to be taught respect, don't you? Thinking you can just get away with me with a little show of puke? I don't let people go easy once I get my eye on them."

It was James. Quinn would never forget his voice again. She remained still and stiff as a board, surprised that her limbs weren't shaking from fear.

"You're a pretty one. Feisty too. You like a fight, don't ya, darling?"

It took everything in her power not to cringe when a rough finger trailed its way down her chin, "I'm going to treat you so good, darling. You won't want to fight anymore or spill your guts. You'll want to be right here with me and Fiona. You won't be a little bitch anymore. I'll make you into a perfect Cinderella."

The gravely voice sounded as if it were attempting to be soft, but it only terrified Quinn more. This man was insane. He wasn't just a kidnapper - that was insane in and of itself. No this man was a psychopath; he wanted to make her, _his_. He wanted to _train_ her. As if she were a _dog. _

She felt James stand from where he had been crouched and walk over to the other side of the van. She took this time to release a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

She remained impassive as James walked back over to her, near her feet. She felt him crouch and run the scratchy hand up her leg. She held back her tears.

"Such pretty legs, darling. Unfortunately, since you like to fight, I'm going to have to take away your ability to run."

She felt cold metal wrap its way around her ankle.

She tried not gasp as realization dawned on her, _"Handcuffs."_

His eyes were on her again, she could feel it. She didn't move as he climbed over her.

"Darling, wakey wakey."

His finger brushed the hair from her forehead. Chapped lips pressed above her left eyebrow. She clenched her jaw as subtly as she could and pushed back tears. She had to be strong.

She kept her eyes closed as James' hand lifted the blindfold. His callused hand cupped her cheek and his thumb brushed under her eye.

"Open your eyes, Cinderella."

She kept them closed her flexed her hand into a fist. Fear and adrenaline began running through her veins.

"Open your eyes."

She kept them closed.

James removed his hand from her cheek and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn't going to do anyth-

_SLAP!_

His hard hand hit her across the cheek with such force her eyes shot open and her body arched into him. Tears sprung to her eyes and she bit her lip hard to hold back her sob.

She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to see her captors face. Because she knew, she would never, ever be able to forget it.

He had other ideas.

He grabbed her chin roughly and turned her head. He met her eyes and she cringed at the anger she saw.

His eyes were a dark gray-blue. His face was as rough as his hands, stubble littered his cheeks. His nose looked as if it had been broken before, slightly off kilter in the middle. He had to at least be forty-five. His tan complexion was that of having worked in a field for years. His neck was red from what looked like a recent sunburn. His graying black hair was thick and unkempt. He smiled, his teeth were on the yellow side, a couple of them chipped.

"Now there, that wasn't so hard was it, darling?"

She whimpered. It was the hardest thing she had ever done; look at him.

"All I asked you to do was look at me. If you had obeyed me, I wouldn't have had to mark that pretty lil' face of yours."

Her face stung, she had no doubt a red handprint was etched into her cheekbone.

He pressed his body onto hers and leaned his head closer to hers. His breath smelled of alcohol and tobacco. She wanted to vomit again.

But, there was nothing in her stomach.

"Now, darling, let's get these dainty little hands secured."

He reached into the back of his jeans pocket and pulled out another pair of handcuffs. She clenched her jaw and watched as he cuffed her wrists and held her hands above her head.

"Keep those there, understand, princess?"

She worked her jaw and nodded through her tears.

This couldn't be happening. She couldn't submit to this.

He leaned his body up, still straddling her hips. She tilted her head back willing her tears not to fall when she felt… felt that _thing_ press up against her thigh.

She gulped audibly and clenched her fists tighter. She couldn't let this happen.

His hands went to his belt and she tried her best not to gag as his eyes worked their way up and down her body. She hated feeling this exposed. This vulnerable. She was Quinn fucking Fabray. She didn't _feel vulnerable_.

Except, she did.

Her status didn't help her here. In fact, it probably made her worse for wear. It wasn't like her father cared about her anymore. He wasn't going to pay her ransom or whatever this sickass man would want. Her mother wouldn't probably even realize she was missing until it was too late. Coming from a family all about status and not about love was definitely not playing in her favor right now.

His fingers unbuttoned his pants quickly and then ran their way up her thighs.

She wasn't ready for this.

She wasn't ready for sex.

Not again, anyway.

But, that wouldn't matter to this man. This vile, evil man.

He wouldn't care that she wanted to save herself for the person she loved. She shook her head at the thought of those big, brown doe eyes. She didn't want to remember her when this was happening. Her beautiful memory did not need to be here.

He wouldn't care that she was still scarred from giving up her daughter.

He wouldn't care.

Because he only cared about himself.

He leaned his body down over hers slowly.

She couldn't let this happen.

She wouldn't.

Maybe she couldn't run away and maybe she couldn't always stop him; but she was going to at least stall.

Her knees bent forcefully into his groin as she simultaneously swung her hands down onto his neck - the metal chain digging its way into the red flesh.

James cried out in pain lifting up off of her. Quinn used all the force she could to bring her legs up, tuck them in, and spring them out against the mans face. Blood gushed from his nose and Quinn would've smirked at the thought of breaking it again if she weren't so scared.

She tucked her knees to her chest again and extended them as hard as she could into his chest, effectively knocking him back and onto his butt.

She panted hard and focused on channeling all of her stunt knowledge. She closed her eyes, bent her legs and rolled herself onto her upper back. She quickly extended her legs and managed to get upright onto her feet. James growled and grabbed at her, but she used the handcuffs to her advantage and hit him roughly in the temple. She clenched her jaw together as the metal dug hard into her wrists.

James yelled out, his hands flying to his temple and blood began trickling down. She hobbled over on her cuffed feet to the opened van doors.

She had to try.

* * *

**11:16 PM**

It had been hours since she had dropped her friends off and returned home. She should be asleep by now. She had school tomorrow; she should have been asleep by 10:30 like she usually was. But, her feeling of dread had increased almost twenty fold about two and half hours ago. Something horrible had been happening _right then_ and she didn't know what it was or how to stop it.

When she had come home shaking and barely breathing her fathers had been worried, rightfully so. They sat her on the couch (only for her to get up a second later and start pacing) and brought her tea. They comforted her and told her that everyone was okay. That there was nothing to worry about; that they would protect her.

She tried, oh she _tried_, to tell them that the feeling of pain and sorrow and despair was not from fear of something happening to her, but fear of something _unknown_ happening to someone _important._ She didn't know who and she didn't know how. She tried to explain to them that she needed to go back out; that she needed to find out what was wrong, but through her hysterics they just guided her to her room and held her securely until she was able to breathe between her hiccups. They laid her in bed and brought her a glass of water. They really were wonderful fathers.

But, they didn't know how dire a situation this was becoming.

Her palms began sweating, along with the rest of her body. She kicked her covers off and curled into a ball. She rocked and scratched at the skin closest to her nails. She needed to feel _something_ besides the knot in her stomach - whirling around and hitting her inner walls with such force she thought she might be knocked over the side of the bed.

For the first time today tears sprang up into her eyes because she finally came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be able to figure out what was wrong. She needed to know desperately. She wanted to _help_. Somebody out there needed her _help_. And she couldn't give it to them. She was left with this horrible feeling of death and guilt and trepidation and someone out there was left with something probably much, much, much worse.

She cried until she passed out.

~0~

**Monday, April 11, 2011**

**5:55 AM**

Slowly, serenely, Rachel opened her eyes to her dark room. Birds were quietly chirping out her window. She reached for the comforter at her feet and pulled it over her cold body. She snuggled into the newly found warmth and sighed softly. Her breaths were soft and slow as she made her way into the new day. She had five minutes until her alarm rang and she wanted to savor every second of the quiet warmth that surrounded her.

That was, until she felt a familiar weight settle in her stomach.

She sat up immediately and stared wide-eyed into her room. She couldn't believe how selfish she had been to forget - to not feel. She tried to be rational and tell herself that, that was in no way selfish. But she couldn't help. She felt like the most selfish person alive, especially since she couldn't help the one person out there who desperately needed her assitance.

Rachel reached over and turned her alarm off. She definitely wouldn't need it now.

She got up slowly and eyed her elliptical. She didn't feel like putting her body under the extra stress, but she knew that she would hate herself later for being so lazy. She furrowed her brow as she threw on her workout clothes and stepped onto the machine. The buttons and numbers all looked so foreign to her. Nothing made sense. She moved her legs slowly and immediately are legs screamed at her, "If you're going to run, run somewhere worthwhile!"

She shook her head and stepped off. The elliptical wasn't going to happen this morning.

She grabbed her phone and headphones and walked downstairs. Her fathers weren't awake yet so she left them a simple note, "Gone for a morning run. Will return shortly to get ready for school."

She sighed quietly as she slipped out the door. The feeling was sort of numb now, but it was still pressing down on her gut like an one hundred pound weight - instead of pounding at her sides insistently.

The morning was glum. A light fog filled the air and the sun wasn't even on the horizon. She placed her headphones in and began her run to who-knows-where.

~0~

**6:03 AM**

She let her feet guide her. She didn't know where she was going or why she was going in the direction she was. All she knew was that there seemed to be a rope around that weight in her stomach that was tugging her this and that way.

Her feet slammed against the pavement and her speed picked up. Wherever she was going she apparently needed to get there fast.

The cold air stung her cheeks and invaded her nostrils. It caused her throat to become dry and burn. She didn't care, as long as she was feeling something other than the fear.

~0~

**6:18 AM**

The tugging stopped, so her feet slowed. She panted and looked around for signs of where she was exactly. She was in a neighborhood not too far from her own. It was a fancy neighborhood, too, with houses that were more like mini-mansions and immaculate lawns trimmed to perfection.

She eyed the properties around her before turning to the one she had stopped in front of. It looked familiar. She walked towards the end of the road to look at the street sign. Her eyes widened in recognition as she jogged back to the front of the house.

114 Dudley Road.

"_Quinn's house."_

A jolt seemed to stab her in the stomach and she closed her eyes tightly trying to gain control of the pain and anxiety. This was definitely where she was supposed to be. Something was wrong with Quinn.

It was an ungodly hour, but she had to do it; she had to knock on the front door. She had to know that Quinn was okay. Maybe then the nagging feeling deep in her gut would go away.

She jogged quickly up to the front door. Light was streaming out from the frosted windows beside the door. Somebody was awake.

She desperately hoped it was Quinn.

She rang the doorbell and bounced from foot to foot as she waited for it to open.

Her heart fell when a disheveled Judy Fabray answered the door. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was in a simple ponytail.

This was the most casual Judy Fabray Rachel had ever seen and it shocked her. Because, in all honesty, Mrs. Fabray looked _better_ this way.

Rachel must have been making a surprised face because the older woman simply raised an eyebrow at her.

"_She doesn't do it as well as Quinn. No one will ever do it as well as Quinn."_

"May I help you?"

Rachel cleared her throat and gave the woman a slight nod.

"Yes, I am a friend of Quinn's," her heart warmed at the thought of being Quinn's friend, _finally_, "And I was wondering if…" She hesitated. She didn't know how to tell Quinn's mother that she'd been having a horrible feeling about Quinn's safety for the last fifteen hours.

"If she's ready? We had planned to go on a jog together this morning."

She gave a small smile to the woman, proud about her quick thinking. However, she wasn't expecting tears to spring to Mrs. Fabray's eyes.

Rachel frowned gently and looked over the woman's face. The feeling in her gut blossomed like a poisonous flower. Something was definitely wrong with Quinn; especially if Mrs. Fabray was showing her emotions to someone who was practically a stranger.

"I'm sorry, honey, but Quinn isn't in at the moment. Maybe some other time."

The older blonde made a move to shut the door, but Rachel stepped forward and stopped her, "Please tell me what has happened with Quinn. I need to know."

Something must have shown on Rachel's face because Ms. Fabray actually nodded and said, "Come into the foyer, dear. It's chilly out."

Rachel stepped in quickly and rubbed her hands together; both to warm her up and to just give her hands something to do.

The house was flawless. It was decorated as if it were out of a magazine. Paintings of flowers and different scenery hung on the walls, instead of family photos. It was a far cry from the warm feeling of Rachel's home.

She stood in the foyer awkwardly as Mrs. Fabray walked into the kitchen. This was so out of her element, but she would do anything to know why she had been feeling the way she had.

Mrs. Fabray called out, "Please, please, come into the dining area…"

"Rachel," she supplied with a gentle smile. She was trying her best to be calm. She didn't want to ambush the older woman. It was obvious that she hadn't gotten much sleep last night.

"Right, Rachel," The woman nodded as Rachel sat on one of the bar stools. Mrs. Fabray handed her a cup of coffee and she took it gratefully. She was almost dead on her feet, her late night and run catching up with her.

"Quinn.. she didn't come home yesterday."

Rachel eyes widened and her coffee almost spewed from her mouth. She swallowed forcefully, ignoring the burn that made its way down her esophagus.

"D-do you know where she is? Has she answered her phone or?"

Mrs. Fabray held up her hand and Rachel shut her mouth immediately.

"I don't know where she is. Her phone just rings and goes straight to voicemail. She isn't answering. I think she ran away, Rachel."

Rachel looked into the cup of coffee. The dark liquid sat there reflecting her stare back up at her.

"No, no, she didn't run away. Not after fighting so hard to get her house back," Rachel replied quietly, talking more to herself than to the blonde. She didn't noticed Mrs. Fabray's guilty face at the mention of her daughter coming back to live with her.

Rachel met the blondes hazel eyes; older, and tired, but not as wise and cunning as Quinn's.

"Did you contact the police?"

"Of course, I did. She's my daughter."

Rachel wasn't phased by the older woman's defensive tone, she just nodded and stared back down in her coffee trying to figure out where Quinn might be. If the feeling in her gut had been any indication, she wasn't in a good place.

"Where was she before she disappeared?"

"She went on a run, that's all I know."

"You don't know the direction or her route or anything?"

Another guilty look crossed the woman's features before becoming passive again - not willing to show emotion. Rachel now realized where Quinn got it from.

"No, I do not. I didn't think it would be any of my business."

Anger flared up inside of Rachel, but it only made it's presence known with a clenched jaw. How could Mrs. Fabray be so naive? So juvenile and uninformed? She realized that she wasn't the best mother in the universe, but you would think she could have taken the time to know Quinn's whereabouts! They could have a trail figured out, a plan to find her, if Judy Fabray had taken the time to give a damn!

She glanced over to the clock on the oven as an excuse to excuse herself. It was time she started back home so she wouldn't be late for school.

Mrs. Fabray nodded when Rachel told her and walked her to the door.

"Thank you for stopping by, Rachel."

The brunette turned around when she stepped onto the porch and met Mrs. Fabray's eyes, "Quinn is an amazing girl. Wherever she is right now, I can assure you that after everything she has been through she does not deserve it. It is admirable that you called the police because that is the right thing to do, but if I were you I would be banging on every door in this town, I'd be searching every forest, I'd be checking every car, hotel, and hostel looking for that girl; and I wouldn't stop until I found her. Because she deserves to be cared enough for to at least have her own mother searching for her day and night. If you don't, I will. Because she deserves to be found. Runaway or not, I'm going to make sure of it."

And with that, she ran off down the road before Mrs. Fabray could even open her mouth to respond.

* * *

**A/N:** That was a rollercoaster of a chapter, goodness. I hope you enjoyed it. If you noticed, I am not including times with Quinn's part because each part is the narrative of each girl in a sense; which means that since Quinn doesn't know what time it is, I'm not going to tell y'all what time it is lol. Just have to infer and what not! I hope that's okay!

I also hope you liked this chapter and hope that you're liking how the story is developing. I'm not sure this is exactly how I was wanting it to play out, but I'm liking it anyway. Also, who else thinking Quinn listens to pop punk (referring to chapter one here)? Anyway, suggestions/comments would be appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	3. It's Not a Joke

**A/N:** As always, my greatest gratitude goes out to those of you who are enjoying this story. I'd love to hear any suggestions that you might have!

**Chapter Three:** ~4,350 words - Published 7/31/2014

**Warnings:** _physical abuse_

* * *

Her head throbbed violently and her right shoulder burned in unrelenting agony. She sniffled sadly into the dark room, scrunching her nose up quickly as a rank, musky smell invaded her senses.

She furrowed her brows together and clenched her eyes shut, the pain was becoming more dull but every few moments a sharp pain would elicit itself from her shoulder blade.

She swallowed thickly and thumped her head against the hard ground below her.

She had tried to run. She made it to the edge of the van, hopped off of it even. She had managed to hobble a couple of feet before James' clunking footsteps resounded forcefully. She tried to go faster, but the cuffs severely limited her movement. She had heard the van bounce and the next thing she knew she was being tackled to the ground by a very large, angry, and strong man. Her shoulder took on the full force of the impact; she was pretty much positive that it had become dislocated. She was too shocked by the blow to make much more noise than a grunt.

However, she remembered she had screamed out in pain as his fist collided with her temple. He wouldn't stop screaming, "How's it feel, bitch? How's it fucking feel?"

She cried freely for the first time that night at the memory and the feeling of dried blood on her cheek.

Her tears were hot and large, and she had no idea how she had enough water in her body to supply them. She hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning (was it still the same day?), but honestly, it didn't matter because she had thrown it all up. All she had, had since were the two saltine crackers Fiona had been nice enough to give her.

She was starving.

She blinked through the tears and examined the area around her. It was too dark to see much, but she had seen plenty on her way down to the basement she was currently locked in. The walls were plastered in outdated wallpaper from the seventies that was peeling near the edges. It was cluttered; various piles of junk holding tools, old books, and more were scattered around the small basement. A pallet of blankets lay in the middle of the room, just for her it seemed. They smelled of sweat and dirt.

After James' had let out his fury on her, leaving her with a good chance for a black eye, he called out to the woman who had been with him earlier.

"Fiona! Come get this bitch!"

Quinn had whimpered quietly as a straggly voice replied, "Alright, James. Where do you want this one?"

She remembered almost choking on nothing at the words, "this one." It meant there were others who had gone through this. Others that could be alive with her… or dead. She had closed her eyes together tightly in mortification, desperately attempting to get the thought out of her head.

"She needs to be fucking trained, Fiona. She's a damn rascally one. I don't want her with me tonight, she'll find a way to do something stupid. Leave her alone in the basement."

She didn't hear Fiona reply, but she felt a hand smaller than James' wrap around her left upper arm. Fiona wrenched her up and she cried out agony; her opposite shoulder had cried out in a series of stabbing, electric shocks that emanated from her shoulder down her back, arms, and legs. Everything hurt.

She had followed Fiona into a medium sized house, desperately wanting to clutch her shoulder. She resorted to curling her bound hands into tight fists. The yard had been a mess of tangled bushes and weeds, the roof seemed to be losing its shingles. Junk laid piled around everywhere. It definitely looked like what you would expect a kidnappers house to look like. The place was practically decrepit; it should have been moved out of a long, long time ago.

Fiona had walked her through the front door, and glanced over at Quinn. Quinn's face must have been etched with pain because instead of leading her down to the basement, she led her to the kitchen.

She held tightly onto Quinn even as she arranged a glass of water and two square crackers. Fiona was afraid she would run.

As she laid there in the dark and thought back, she wondered if Fiona was scared of losing Quinn for her own personal safety from James. She couldn't be all that bad if she was getting her something… right?

She shook her head; no, Fiona was definitely just as bad as James. Quinn had to remember that. She had to remember that she was kidnapped, and that Fiona was helping James. There's always a way to turn someone in. Fiona could turn James in if she really wanted to.

She kept replaying the memories in her head.

Fiona had reached up into a cabinet and pulled out three Tylenol. She handed them to Quinn and the broken girl eyed them warily.

"They're Tylenol. Nothing else."

Quinn had scrunched her brow together. She didn't believe Fiona.

"Girl, you'll want to take them or your shoulder is going to be giving you a helluva lot of pain."

With her cuffed hands, Quinn put the pills into her mouth. Fiona lifted the glass of water to Quinn's lips; the girl drank greedily.

"It's out of place. Your shoulder, I mean. I'm going to put it back."

Quinn frowned at the thought. This lady was dangerous already. What if she hurt Quinn's arm for good?

She swallowed the last bit of water as she thought it over. She opened her mouth to respond, but Fiona stopped her.

"Now, listen here, dearie. I'm going to do whatever I can to make you feel more comfortable 'round here; but James? He gets final say. He gets to choose what he does with you and what happens to you. I don't want to see a girl, pretty as you, get bruised and hurt, ya hear? James wants his girls in tiptop shape, and you can't be that for him if your shoulder is out. You have a better chance of not getting hurt later if you let me pop your shoulder in, now."

"_Girls."_

So there were other girls here. Quinn didn't know where. But she was torn between wanting to see them and wanting to stay as far from them as possible.

She couldn't become attached.

She gulped and closed her eyes. Her mind was screaming at her to find a way out of there, but she knew she couldn't. Not with these shackles on her ankles. It pained her to think that she was submitting. She didn't want to bow down to these wretched criminals. But she also didn't want to die.

She had nodded slightly and watched as Fiona produced a small key from her pocket.

Her eyes trailed Fiona's sun spotted hands to her shaking ones. The woman with leathery skin and hair that probably used to be a beautiful red but was now an off-colored gray, unlocked the handcuffs around Quinn's wrists.

She still wouldn't be able to run, so she stayed still.

Fiona took Quinn's could arm and helped her lay down. Quinn didn't want to even imagine how disgusting the floor was.

The woman, who appeared to be aged way beyond her years - looking 65 when she was probably only in her forties - placed her left foot in Quinn's right armpit and grabbed her hand.

"This will hurt, most likely."

And with that, Fiona tugged slowly and steadily.

Quinn bit her lip hard as the tears piled up in her eyes. She tried her best to stay still, her muscles clenching all over her body desperately trying to keep herself in control.

A ripping pain seared through her as Fiona gave one hard, fast tug. She cried out and whimpered, but she had heard a "pop!" Her arm was back in place. It still hurt like a fucker; she was bruised badly.

Now, she laid on the thin layer of blankets in a dark, damp basement. Her hands were cuffed again and her ankles felt raw under the metal. How long had she been here? How long had it been since Fiona had given her the medicine? Was it daytime outside yet? She desperately wanted to know the time. She really wished that she had her phone. She had no idea what had happened to it. She kicked herself for not looking for a clock when she was taken into the house.

The old, grimy, disgusting house.

Her body shook silently with sobs.

She never, ever thought in her entire life that she would want to go home so bad.

* * *

**6:28 AM**

Rachel sprinted to her house. Her legs were probably going to fall off soon and her lungs would probably shrivel up at any time now, but she didn't stop. She flung the front door open, barely managing to close it behind her, and raced up her stairs.

She didn't even notice her fathers calls or puzzled looks.

She was in the chair for her desk in a second and her fingers practically flew to open her laptop. She groaned as it started turning on at the pace of a turtles walk. She decided she'd multitask and ran over to her bathroom to turn the water on for it to warm up.

She blindly grabbed some of the clothes she'd wear today before she ran back over to the computer. She logged in and opened Microsoft Publisher; clenching and unclenching her fist as she mentally berated Microsoft for having their programs take twelve years to open.

She set to work as soon as the blank page filled the screen.

~0~

**7:47 AM**

It had taken her longer than she wanted it to for her to create the flyer. She ended up having to take a lukewarm shower and throw on whatever clothes she had pulled out; not being able to give them a proper look over before she headed off to school.

She walked into McKinley High with a clenched jaw and an aura of "I'm not taking anybody's shit today."

People actually parted like the red sea for _her_, yet, she didn't even notice. She was on a mission.

~0~

**7:49 AM**

She started in the Cheerio locker rooms. The Cheerios would still be at morning practice until the warning bell in six minutes. Six minutes was plenty of time to put her flyers around the locker room and rest of the school. Quinn's closest peers were the most likely to have talked to her last. She'd confront every single damn Cheerio to find out more information if she had to.

Her next area was in the hallways, plastering her flyers at every bulletin board and every seventh locker. She moved towards the choir room and taped the flyer to the whiteboard before she moved to the cafeteria and gym. She was moving like a bullet, hurtling down the halls at lightning speeds. She kept handing flyers out to students, who eyed her oddly, as she headed to her first class.

Her nerves were all over the place. The weight in her stomach was dull, but her limbs felt like they were getting shocks of electricity every so often, making her restless and shaky. She thought maybe Quinn was sleeping and having nightmares. If she could feel when something bad was happening from Quinn, maybe she could figure out what was happening with Quinn if she could focus hard enough on the feelings she was getting.

She had no idea how she would make it through the day. She felt horrible that her biggest task of today would be getting through school when somewhere out there Quinn was facing something much worse.

~0~

**8:46 AM**

Class was almost over. It was the longest class she thought she had ever had. She wanted to scream the entire time, "QUINN IS MISSING DO ANY OF YOU EVEN CARE?"

She didn't want to listen about Marshall Plan. Her plan was much more important at the moment. She sighed and watched the clock tick. Every second seemed to take an hour. She buried her head in her arms and bounced her leg. She would definitely not make it through the day.

Everything seemed to come out of slow motion as her phone vibrated in her lap. This was part one of her plan, it was plastered all over the flyers.

"If you have any information or tips about the whereabouts of Quinn Fabray please text: 216-854-9957 and inform the local police." She didn't even care if that meant Jacob Bin Israel would now have her phone number; what mattered was getting information on Quinn.

She practically growled when she realized it wasn't the information she had been looking for.

**Puck:** Is she rly missing?

Rachel worked her jaw and glared at the message. Why was no one taking this seriously? Would she really joke about something like this? She typed out her reply, careful to not to convey any agitation.

**Rachel:** I was informed by Mrs. Fabray this morning that Quinn is most definitely missing.

The bell rang and she threw her bag over her shoulder a little more roughly than she meant to. She stalked out into the hallway and glared angrily at people taking down her flyers; only for the flyers to land on the floor to be trampled on. She stomped over to one of the jocks who had done just that, and stared up at him angrily.

"Do you think this is a joke?"

The boy laughed at her - at her demeanor or the Quinn situation she wasn't sure; either way it infuriated her - and looked her up and down.

"Damn, Berry, you actually are lookin' fine today. You should dress like that more often."

Rachel furrowed her brows and looked down at her clothes. She had thrown on jeans and a tight, low cut t-shirt she usually only wore for work outs. She met eyes with a smirking jock and she had never wanted to slap somebody so badly.

"What is _wrong_ with you? You're laughing and checking me out when a girl you've seen almost every day this year is missing? She could be out there hurting or dying and you're here _laughing_!"

Anger sparked in the boys eyes.

"What the hell do you know, fucking hobbit!" The boy bellowed back defensively.

"That I may have a short stature, but at least I know I'm not a _fucking_ prick!"

The hallway fell silent and students wide eyes stared at Rachel in shock. This was the first time she had ever retaliated. They watched intently as the jock bristled. Rachel didn't falter she just stared him dead in the eye with her hand on her hip, daring him to do something.

The boy just growled and pushed past her, his shoulder slamming her back into a locker. She grunted and glared at the back of his head. She kept trying to tell herself that he would get what was coming to him later in life. It didn't help too much. She headed to her second hour class even more on edge than she had been previously - angry too.

Her phone vibrated as she slid into her assigned seat.

**Puck:** Whatever you have planned, I want in on it.

She typed her reply freely, silently taking pleasure in the surprised faces of her peers, that she would text in class. She knew it wouldn't get taken, the bell hadn't rung yet; they were just too stupid to realize that.

**Rachel: **So far, gathering as much information as I can is the plan. Her mother told me that she went on a run before she went missing. I was going to drive around Lima and see if I could find anything. I wouldn't mind you joining me in the search.

Her surprise matched her that of her peers when Puck's instantaneous reply wasn't about her texting in paragraphs.

**Puck: **Meet in the parking lot after school. We'll take my truck.

~0~

**3:06 PM**

Rachel walked through the halls slowly. It had been the longest _ever_. She frowned and willed the tears not to come as poster after poster of Quinn's smiling face appeared at her feet.

"_Why does no one care?"_

Glee club hadn't been much better. She had tried to appeal to them that they were a family and not having Quinn here wasn't right. Quinn was missing, for heavens sakes.

Kurt just scoffed along with the rest of the group and retorted, "She probably ran away. Her life's a mess, Rachel. Even if I did have her cheekbones and HBIC attitude, I'd probably want to run away too."

She tried to appeal to Santana, since they were apparently best friends, but the girl just simple spat out, "Don't even try to talk to me, Stubbles. Q can do whatever she wants to do. Like they said, she probably hitchhiked her way out of this miserable town."

Puck hadn't even shown up to Glee club today, and Rachel was wary as she made her way out to the parking lot. It would be nice to have someone there with her - someone with her same concerns; but if Puck didn't show up, it definitely was not going to stop her from seeking out any clues.

"Rachel!"

She turned to the voice and saw Puck leaning against his truck. She was more than a little offput by Puck using her real name instead of something like "Jew Babe". She had a feeling that he was just as upset about this as she was.

She walked towards the boy and he opened the side door for her. She nodded her thanks and climbed in.

Soon the pair were driving off campus and debating their first search route.

"Her mom said she went for a run. Do you know where she usually likes to run?"

Puck thought over it for a minute, his eyes steely and distant.

"After she was kicked out and was living with Mercedes, she and I would go for runs together sometimes. I thought I would be making an effort of being there, so I wouldn't be like my dad. I think she just agreed so she wouldn't be as lonely."

"Where did you guys run?" Rachel wanted to ask more about his relationship with Quinn, but she knew it wouldn't be the right time to ask.

"We'd run a long way. She usually never wanted to stop. She liked to run until she couldn't. Of course, that made me worry about Beth's health, but she said that she would be okay. Anyway," Puck stopped at a light and looked at Rachel, "We'd run from Mercedes house to Quinn's house and then from there she had her own little route mapped out."

He turned back to the road when Rachel nodded. Rachel briefly thought about how she had never heard Puck talk so much, but her musings were cut short when he started up again, "I think we ran to her house because she wanted to see if anything had changed."

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, "It never did."

Rachel bit her lip and closed her eyes. She hated remembering how broken Quinn had looked when she had been pregnant. How alone and scared. Behind the Ice Queen facade was a real girl, with real insecurities, and real pain. She wanted so badly to be able to hold Quinn's hand and tell her that things were going to be okay. She really wanted to be Quinn's friend. If Quinn wasn't so obviously straight and set in her sexuality, Rachel might have even wished for more.

Quinn was beautiful - gorgeous even, but she was a lot more than that. She was intelligent, witty, funny, independent, strong. She had been through so much, and she had survived. That's not something that should be taken lightly.

~0~

**3:21 PM**

They arrived in front of Quinn's house shortly after the car had fallen to silence.

Puck slowed the truck down and looked over at the Fabray mansion, "Are you wanting to talk to her mom again?"

Rachel merely shook her head and began scanning the road for any clues.

Puck drove the route for about four minutes before pulling to the side of the road, "This is where she would usually want to turn around."

Rachel scanned the area around them. It was the beginning of the forest area. Trees slowly becoming more prominent the farther they went.

"Let's take a walk, Noah."

He turned the truck off and helped Rachel down into the ditch.

"She likes to run on the left side of the road, so cars have a better chance of seeing her."

"Let's cross then."

They looked both ways before they crossed the street. This road seemed pretty abandoned, and a good place to take a walk. Quiet; a good place to think.

An eerie feeling weighed on Rachel's shoulders as she reached the other side. They were getting closer to where she was taken, Rachel could feel it.

She closed her eyes and reigned in her emotion before eyed the grassy ditch, "Look for clues, Noah."

He didn't reply, but she saw him start scanning the ground. She looked for any clues. Footprints that could or could have not been Quinn's, jewelry, a shoe, anything. Her heart was beating like crazy and subtle pain began emanating from her shoulder.

Then she felt it.

The tug that had guided her to the Fabray house. It knotted itself around her gut and tugged her with such ferocity that she thought if she didn't follow it her stomach would break through her skin.

She started running.

"Rachel! Where are you going?!"

She didn't - couldn't - answer. Her brain wouldn't have been able to formulate a response if she had even wanted it to. Her whole body was focused on her movement. She just ran further down the road. Her feet picking up more and more speed with each step.

The pain in her shoulder intensified and the knot in her stomach pulled so hard she was afraid she might stumble. She had never ran so fast in her life.

~0~

**3:44 PM**

The knot loosened and her feet skidded to a stop. Her chest was heaving. Sprinting for a solid twenty-three minutes was definitely not something she was accustomed to doing.

Her legs felt like noodles, but she kept upright as she rested her palms on her knees.

Her eyes scanned the area looking for whatever it was the knot had been guiding her to.

"H-holy f-f-fuck Jew babe," Puck panted behind her. It had taken him a few minutes to catch up.

"Y-you," He took a deep breath and expelled it slowly, "You _seriously_ need to try out for the track team."

Rachel nodded absentmindedly and licked her dry lips before she rose up off of her hands. She breathed deeply, trying to gain control of her overworked body.

The wind blew through her hair and that's when she caught it. A smell. A gross smell, at that.

She scrunched her nose and walked towards the way the wind had come from.

"_Please don't let it be a decomposing body, decaying rapidly in the unusual warmth of April. Please, please, please."_

She looked down and swallowed thickly at the substance in the grass.

"Noah, come over here and tell me if this is what I think it is."

A still wheezing Puck walked over to her, before placing his hand on her shoulder for balance.

He looked down and his eyes widened.

"_Uh-oh," _he thought. He hated this stuff, _"Please don't let her say the name of it, please don't let her say the name of it."_

"Y-yeah, I think that's…"

"Vomit?"

Puck ran over to the edge of the trees and spilled the entirety of his stomach. Rachel scrunched up her nose and kept looking at the gross pile. She couldn't tell if the feeling in her stomach was one of disgust, or a signal that this was something to do with Quinn.

She decided it was probably both.

She looked over at a disheveled Noah and shook her head, _"Boys_," she thought.

"Are you okay over there?" She asked him.

He nodded and ran his fingers through his mohawk, "Yeah, yeah, Puckasaurus is totally okay."

She decided to spare him and didn't call him out on his shaking fingers.

She walked around the area, when something caught her eye. Sunlight was reflecting off of something in the grass. She walked over to it slowly and her eyes widened.

"Noah, I found something!"

It was Quinn's phone. As she got closer she could hear music blasting from the headphones that lay beside it. She picked it up hurriedly and pressed the home button. The phone came to life with a mere 2% battery left.

"What is it, Rach?"

"It's her phone." She looked over the notifications quickly.

_26 missed calls._

_23 voicemails._

_39 text messages._

Rachel decided to go for it, and opened up the text message list.

**Mom:** Quinnie did you stop by somewhere?

**Mom: **If you did can you pick up some bananas?

**Mom: **It's getting late.

**Mom: **You need to be home in twenty minutes.

**Mom: **Lucy Quinn Fabray. Answer me.

**Mom: **Lucy!

**Mom: **Reply this instant. Where are you?

**Mom:** That's it, I'm calling the police.

Rachel scanned the messages each one getting more angry or more desperate. She switched over to the other messages.

**Santana: **Q, RuPaul is going crazy thinking u have been kidnapped or some shit.

**Santana:** u better have not ditched Lima without me

**Santana:** u better be ok

**Santana:** bitch

**Brittany**: Santana has started crying saying that you've gone away. She misses you. When you get back from vacation with the napping kids can we go to the duck pond?

And then, the phone died.

* * *

**A/N:** oo-ee-oo! First things first, thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you're thinking. Secondly, don't worry I haven't forgotten about her date with Dominic. He's going to have a bigger part later on in the story, so I have definitely had him in my mind. Thirdly, there's a lot of throw up in this story and I'm not sure how I feel about it... Anyway! I need to start getting into Quinn's thoughts more as well as Pucks. I want him to be thoroughly incorporated in the story too. Anywho, thank you for reading!


	4. Names of Flowers

**A/N:** Thank you guys for your continued patience. I really hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Four: ~**3,840 Words - Published 8/12/2014

**Warnings****:** _Physical Abuse_

* * *

Her eyes shot open as she felt a boot collide into her side. She yelped out in pain and looked up at the man above her.

"Hey, there, darlin."

She swallowed and nodded her head, "James."

She didn't know how long she had been down in the basement, but she assumed it had been a few days since her arrival. She hadn't been allowed to leave the dark, damp room. She had tried to escape, but the door was locked and there were no windows. Even if she had managed to get away, she would have soon been caught from the limited mobility the cuffs provided her.

Every morning (or what she assumed was morning), James would come down and hit her in some way to wake her up. The first morning, she didn't reply when he greeted her. He had kicked her in the shin and yelled at her to answer him. So she did, with a strangled cry of, "Hi."

It had been enough to tide James over, so he started talking as if he were having a normal conversation, "You, girl, will go by the name of Ivy. I don't want to know your real name. You have no use of it here. When I talk to you, you will answer me. You will do what I say, and do as I ask. You are nineteen, understand."

Quinn swallowed and curled into herself, "I am only sixteen… Sir."

She could hear James teeth grinding together, "Just because of the sir I will let your backtalk slide. You are nineteen. Nineteen. What I say goes."

In fear of being hit again, she had relented, "Yes, sir."

James had leaned down and brushed the hair out of her face, "My, my, Ivy, you're gorgeous. I did a good job with you."

She swallowed thickly and nodded her head - it was better to play along at this point.

"Fiona will be down later with some food. Gotta keep you lookin' fancy."

She had replied with another 'yes, sir.'

But that was a few days ago, and today was today.

"Ivy, I don't want you to call me James, right now."

Quinn closed her eyes and ground her teeth, "What would you like to be called, sir?"

She felt him bend down, his hot alcoholic breath on her ear, "I want you to call me dad. Sir is acceptable too, I reckon."

Quinn felt tears pile in her eyes. She already had one retched father, she definitely didn't need another one. But, against her will, a choked, "Yes, sir," left between her lips.

A rough hand wrapped around Quinn's upper arm and tugged her up onto her cuffed feet. She squealed in pain; it was the shoulder that was still hurt.

"Ivy, I think it's time you met your sisters."

Quinn's heart dropped and her eyes squeezed together almost painfully, "Okay."

* * *

**Friday, April 15th, 2011**

**3:04 PM**

Quinn's face had been all over the news the last few days. The police had finally gotten an investigation in motion, and Rachel had finally been able to convince the New Directioners that Quinn was seriously missing and not just ditching town.

It had been the longest week of Rachel's life, and she couldn't even imagine how long the week had felt to Quinn.

She sighed as she climbed into Puck's truck. Her head rested against the headrest and her eyes closed. She was grateful that Puck was smart enough to not talk to her or ask any questions.

She thought back to how crazy the week had been.

Monday, after finding Quinn's phone, any miniscule amount of doubt that the girl was missing, flew out the window for both Rachel and Puck. The phone was almost as important as books to the blonde; she wouldn't go anywhere without it.

Puck had dropped Rachel off at her house at around five that night. She had looked at an unfamiliar car parked in front of her house curiously, wondering who it was. She just shrugged as she made her way up to the front door, figuring it was probably just one of her Daddy's work friends.

She unlocked the door quietly, not wanting to disturb her fathers and their company and made her way to the stairs as discreetly as possible. Her nerves and emotions were all over the place, she couldn't handle putting on a smile and playing hostess/perfect-daughter.

"Oh! Rachel, there you are!"

Her hand gripped the stair railing tightly before turning around and seeing her fathers and… her eyes widened in recognition - Dominic. She had totally forgotten!

"Don't tell me you forgot, Rach," the boy chuckled, amusement clear in his eyes.

She hated herself for getting angry at the happiness the boy was exuding. It wasn't a time for happiness! The girl she lov- cared deeply for as a _friend_ was out there, probably hurt and cold and starving! Her stomach rolled at the thought and a frown appeared subconsciously on her face.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Her daddy, Leroy, stepped forward and looked over her face, "You've been acting very strange the last couple of days."

"Yeah, Rachel Barbara Berry doesn't usually forget anything; especially when she has her cat calendar with her," Dominic quipped with a playful smile.

Rachel hated herself again for wanting to slap it off of his face. Dominic was a good, funny guy. He was just trying to get her to smile. But, right now, she didn't want to smile.

Her eyes had flitted from his face, to her Daddy's to her Dad's, who was just looking at her with concern. She felt sick and the weight of Quinn's phone in her pocket seemed to have tripled. Her shoulder seemed to be on fire and her mouth had felt dry.

For some reason, she didn't want to tell them. She didn't want them to know. She felt like the feelings she was having in regards to Quinn were personal; as if what she was feeling was being channeled to her from Quinn. Just for her - private, personal, feelings and cries of help directed towards Rachel.

But Rachel knew that Quinn needed help. She knew that she, herself, was only a sixteen year old girl that could only do so much in the world in order to rescue the blonde.

She forced a smile and looked at Dominic, "Yes, it seems that I have caused a rip in the fabric of space. I have forgotten something, even with my cat calendar's use."

She clenched her hand onto the railing again and moved to look back at her Daddy when Dominic laughed.

"Daddy, you're right, I have been acting strange. I don't really feel too well. Dominic, I hope we can reschedule sometime?"

She tried not to acknowledge Dominic's crestfallen face in her peripheral vision. She turned her back before he could answer.

Her Daddy stepped up a few steps and placed his hand on her back as he led her up the stairs, and she tried not to feel guilty when she heard her Dad apologize to Dominic and showed him the front door.

That same night she had told her fathers everything. From the feelings she had been getting to finding Quinn's phone. They just held her and told her that Quinn would be found and that she should take Quinn's phone to the police. She didn't understand what taking the phone to the police would do, she had already checked everything she could (after she had charged it) and there was no evidence that would lead to the kidnapper.

The next day, Tuesday, she did end up taking the phone to the police. Puck had asked if she wanted a ride, and she agreed with a sullen nod.

Wednesday, he just looked at her and she nodded. They had drove around Lima, silently seeking out any sight of a certain blonde.

Thursday, it had become their routine. They were wordless while together, but they both knew why they were driving and who they were looking for.

And today, the routine continued. They drove around another area of Lima than on their previous days. Rachel was beginning to think that the town wasn't as small as it was made out to be.

She jumped slightly when she heard Puck's voice, gruff and deep, "I think we need to start exploring outside of Lima."

Her eyes turned from the boy's profile to look outside the window. The trees were passing quickly; just a blur of fresh green leaves and sound trunks. Her mind mulled over Puck's suggestion slowly, turning over every possibility with detailed scrutiny. Quinn could still be in Lima, locked away in some cellar just down the street.

She shivered at the possibility of such an evil person living just around the corner.

However, Quinn could have been kidnapped and taken away to a different area. The tugging in her stomach had been quiet since that Monday afternoon, so she wasn't being directed towards the blonde.

She could literally be anywhere by now.

Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat and rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly - it had been bothering less, thankfully, but every now and then a jolt of sharp discomfort would occur. She brought her bottom lip between her teeth and closed her eyes as she thought.

Rumors about Quinn's disappearance had been going around school. From ones saying she ran away to saying her father murdered her. She had contemplated most of the rumors, searching for ones that sounded viable; but none stood out to her. She loved that people were taking notice to the blondes kidnapping, but she wished that they would do more than just gossip about it. This wasn't a petty game. She was planning on organizing a rally over the weekend. She thought the more that people knew, the more search power there would be in order to find the girl; Santana, Brittany, Puck, Kurt, and basically the rest of the Glee club had already agreed to help.

And the rumors about Quinn being dead? Well, Rachel wasn't willing to contemplate those.

Her eyes roved over the fast-moving scenery as she nodded her head to herself, "That's a good idea, Noah."

* * *

**6:47 PM**

Rachel flopped down onto her bed with a loud sigh. She and Puck had driven about forty minutes out of Lima to another small town named Findlay. Neither of the pair were familiar with the area, so they drove around aimlessly for about an hour. When they arrived back at Rachel's house, they agreed to meet tomorrow morning in order to have the whole day driving through Ohio.

Rachel wasn't too optimistic that this would lead to Quinn's whereabouts, but she figured it was worth the shot.

Throughout the last week, her heart had been doing a number on her. She had thought about Dominic. He was a sweet, handsome, charming young man - who could also dance. He was quite the catch, and yet, Rachel couldn't imagine herself being held by him or being romantic with him. His sparkling brown eyes, that she might have been able to fall for a little over a week ago, were always replaced with expressive hazel ones.

She had laid in bed each night this week thinking about the blonde - in more ways than one. She had wondered why the blondes disappearance clung to her in a way that was different from everyone else - well… besides Puck it seemed. She tried to shrug it off as the right thing to do, but deep down in her heart she knew it was more. She knew that there was a reason why she wanted to hurl every time she thought of the blonde just being looked down on evilly; she knew there was a reason why she wanted to find the girl and protect her at all costs, fiercely. There was a reason why she had always forgiven the blonde, and there was a reason why she always reached out to her, too.

She rubbed her face slowly, rubbing the stress away as best as she could. She still had math homework to do, and she hadn't even thought about picking songs for Regionals the entire week. She felt a little guilty at the prospect of distracting herself, but the stress was eating away at her like a thousand maggots.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and quickly busied herself with homework and Glee assignments; just so that she may not cave in on herself in depression.

* * *

She figured it had been a few hours since James had taken her up to the kitchen and a couple of hours since she had met her "sisters". She now laid in a cot in a warm separate room that wasn't the basement. She took it as a small victory.

Her mind replayed the events of the day in detail.

Fiona had glanced over at them when they emerged from the basement as she prepared a plate. Quinn's mouth watered at the sight of two cold hotdog franks and a small portion of green beans. It was a lot more than she had been given the past few days, and even though she usually despised hotdogs, she prayed that the plate was for her.

When Fiona grabbed the edge of the plate and thrusted it towards her, threatening one of the franks to roll off, Quinn snatched it up immediately.

James guided her over to an old wooden table and pulled out the chair for her, "Madam."

Quinn's eyes never left the food as she sat in the chair. Her voice automatically replied, "Thank you, Sir."

All the etiquette she was taught growing up was thrown out the window as she bit viciously into the hotdog. Her shoulders were hunched and she lifted her hands to her mouth as quick as she could with the handcuffs. She didn't know how much of the plate she'd be able to get down before James decided she had eaten long enough, so she stuffed as much as she could in. She was so tired of starving.

She briefly hesitated, before digging back in, when she heard James chuckle, "My, my, for such a pretty lady you sure do eat like a dog."

Her eyes trained on the plate intently. The hotdogs were gone and a few green beans were left. She wanted them. Her fingers became slippery as boots stepped closer towards her.

She got the last remaining bits in her mouth clumsily as James bent down and said roughly, "Maybe it's just because you're a bitch."

Quinn gulped down the food and bit her lip, not sure of how to respond. Her eyes widened when James leaned away and let out a full belly laugh, "Get it? Dog and bitch - because you're a female and I called you a dog?"

Quinn forced a smile and a short nod, "T-that was a good one."

She cringed at the smile he gave her. She could see it was meant to be playful, but she could also see the twisted evil in his eyes; just waiting to come out and play.

"Now that you inhaled all of your food," He said in attempted playfulness, "Let's go meet the rest of the family."

_Family_. Quinn's eyes prickled as she lay in her cot. All she had ever wanted was a family that loved her and cared for her. This was not what she had been wanting. She turned onto her good shoulder and brought her knees up to her chest. Silent tears made their way down her cheek.

She needed something, anything, to make her feel better. Thoughts of chocolate brown eyes floated into her mind. She pushed them away forcefully. She still didn't want the beautiful memory of the girl to be in such an awful place.

She pressed her forehead to her knees the best she could and rocked gently. She thought about praying, but she didn't know what she believed anymore. She had been through so much, and had made it through, only to be knocked down again - time after time.

Her inner voice screamed out to the Heavens, _"Why, God?"_

Her tears came harder when she didn't hear a reply.

She swallowed thickly and tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"_Why can't I ever catch a break?"_

She waited a few moments for an answer before letting her heartbreak and letting all of her emotions finally pour out of her.

"_Why is this happening? Everything was finally going _good,_ ya know? Mom was going to her AA meetings, I was coming to terms with everything that has happened and my feelings for you-know-who. I thought you had my back, God? Why does it feel like you're not even here? I thought I needed you before, but Lord, I need you like never before!"_

Hot, wet tears soaked into the old, yellow stained sheet below her.

Her heart felt empty and her body shook in panic and pain. She _knew_ He was up there, but why wasn't He listening? What had she done?

Her mind flashed back to the girls she had met a few hours ago. There were three of them, two brunettes and a redhead. Each one had their own form of beauty, and their own quirks. None of them looked sad and each wore a smile. Quinn was torn between deciding that the smiles were genuine or part of an act to not get in trouble. She set her mind, through her sobbing haze, to finding out each of the girls stories. Maybe if they all worked together they could escape. She didn't get to spend a lot of time with them before James took her away and locked her in the room she was now in, but as her sobs turned to hiccups, she laid against her pillows and thought back to the meeting.

James had taken her down a hallway to a room marked, "Private."

The man had opened it and a large grin broke across his face as he did so, "Girls, welcome our new member to the family!"

The scruffy man turned to Quinn with a nod, "Introduce yourself."

Quinn gulped and turned her head to look at the girls. They were all sitting together on a loveseat with old books on their laps. Her mouth dropped open a little at seeing how pretty each girl was. If James had hit them recently, no bruises were showing.

She stammered quietly, "I'm Qu- Ivy. My name is Ivy," bashfulness overtaking her. She felt small and unflattering compared to the girls in front of her - all of whom seemed to be very close-knit together. They all eyed her blankly, but when she heard James growl next to her, the redhead shot up with a large smile, "Ivy. Nice to meet you. My name is Juniper, but everyone calls me June. I'm the talker of the group really."

Quinn was shocked that the girl said it in such a normal, conversational tone. June continued with gestures to the other two girls, "That's Marigold," She said pointing to the short-haired brunette in the middle of the couch, "but she goes by Mary. She's sort of quiet."

Quinn nodded before looking at the brunette that had her hair in a high ponytail - it unnerved Quinn that it reminded her so much of McKinley's cheerleader's hair. Her facial features were hard and unreadable, but gorgeous none-the-less. Her blue eyes met Quinn's hazel ones. The blondes eyes widened, but held the gaze; she didn't want to be considered weak.

The brunette was the first to look away.

June pointed to the blue-eyed girl, "And this Peony. She's quiet too, but in a different way."

The blonde mulled over the thought silently as to why James had given them all names related to flowers. He was twisting something so beautiful into something evil. She clenched her jaw at the thought.

Quinn nodded and met eyes with all three of them as she spoke, "It's very nice to meet all of you."

James cleared his throat and she turned towards him, as did the others.

"Now, you girls, listen, Ivy is your sister now. You are going to treat her like one. Anyone not okay with that?"

Quinn closed her eyes briefly when she heard what sounded like a frequently used phrase fall from all three of the girls lips, "No, Daddy, what you say goes."

She looked at James smile fondly, as if he was actually having a proud fatherly moment, and nodded his head, "Good, girls. Come down for lunch at-"

Quinn's eyes widened in horror as June cut him off with a kiss to his cheek, "1:15. Yes, Daddy, we know. You have taught us very well." She was sure she was going to have another one handed to her.

She was even more surprised when James ruffled the girls hair and nudged her back to the couch with a smile, "Right. Well, I'm taking this one to her room. When she is more situated we will see about you four all spending time together."

James roughly pulled Quinn out of the room and down the hall to another one. She entered silently and James pulled a key out from his pocket. She tried not to shrink away from his stare.

"I'm unlocking your wrists. The ankle ones are staying on."

Quinn couldn't help, but think that James had definitely gotten out on the right side of the bed this morning.

She nodded and watched as the cuffs unlocked, "Yes, Sir." She rubbed her sore wrists gratefully and rolled them a few times.

He grinned, and she flinched at the evil that sparked in his eyes, "You're such a good girl, Ivy. I'm so happy that I have you now."

She clenched her jaw and took a sharp breath through her nose, "..Me too."

She braced herself as he leaned forward. The scruff on his cheek brushed against her jaw. She closed her eyes tightly.

"You're my baby girl now, Ivy."

Tears boiled up into her eyes and she nodded quickly, hoping it would be enough for him to back away.

She breathed a sigh of relief when it was.

"I'll let you get settled in."

"T-thank you, Sir."

James just licked his lips and nodded, "Anything for one of my baby girls. Behave yourself now. I don't like having to punish my girls."

Quinn nodded and felt a quick shot of happiness when she was able to brush the hair out of her face easily, "Yes, Sir."

James eyed her seriously, making her heart rate raise. She was getting close to fight or flight mode again.

He gave a slight nod before stomping out of the room. She collapsed on the cot when she heard the lock click in place.

And that was how she ended up sobbing, curled up in a ball in this new, smelly room.

The lone window was barred horizontally, as well as vertically. There was no way out.

She was stuck, terrified, alone, and the one thing that she needed, wasn't answering her.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay wow! I'm sorry it took so long to get an update out! School started and I've just been so busy. I hope you're still enjoying the story. I'd love to hear your thoughts, ideas, and suggestions. I will be exploring Quinn's religion in this fic, and I'd also like to hear your thoughts on that. I'm starting to get a better grasp on where I want this story to go, and I hope you'll stick with me for the ride. Those waiting for an MCQ update.. I will get there, I promise. Thank you for reading!


	5. Not by Sight

**A/N: **Let's pretend that prom in season two has already happened even though it's really a month away in canon. Let's also assume that the slap didn't happen. I hope you enjoy! Currently unbetaed.

**Chapter Five: **~ 6000 words - Published 8/23/14

**Warnings:** _Rape mention; Molestation_

**Monday, April 18th, 2011**

**5:29 AM**

Rachel laid in her bed silently as she looked up at the ceiling. Her alarm would be going off in 31 minutes, she had plenty of time to get some extra sleep, but it just wasn't coming to her. Her mind was silent, and the weight in her stomach was numb and subdued - as if it was telling her that Quinn was sleeping.

It had been a week and one day since Quinn had been taken; Rachel took a shuddering breath at the thought.

Saturday, she and Puck had driven for hours upon hours in search for the girl. A light tug in her stomach told her that they needed to continue north. They'd driven through Findlay for a while before heading up the highway for an hour to another town called Maumee. Nothing was calling out to Rachel, so they kept going. They ended up in Toledo to get gas. Other than the change in scenery from the dull Lima, nothing interested Rachel. The tug in her stomach had become dormant and the feeling of numbness in her gut did little to help their search. She hoped that the ever-growing weakness of the feeling in her gut didn't mean that Quinn was getting weaker in turn.

They had debated for a few minutes if they wanted to cross state lines into Michigan.

They decided to go for it.

They drove on route 23 for about an hour and a half. Rachel had been drifting in and out of sleep for the last half hour before a sudden stab of pain erupted on her right side. She cried out and gripped her side.

Puck's wide eyes looked over at her quickly before looking back at the road, "What the hell, are you okay, Rach?"

The weight and fear settled in her stomach soundly, the sleepy numbness gone completely. She was totally awake now, and she knew that Quinn was too.

She wasn't sure if she should be happy about that.

She swallowed and held tightly onto her throbbing side, not wanting to think about what had caused Quinn to feel that, and nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine, just must have been something I ate."

Puck glanced over at her wearily, "We can stop somewhere if you need to." The last thing he wanted was Rachel to be emptying her stomach in his truck.

Rachel glanced out the window and looked at the different fast food joints and gas stations that lined the highway. They could probably use another break, and she could definitely use some ice on her stomach - even if it was just a phantom pain from her connection with Quinn. Maybe Quinn could feel her too.

"Yeah, let's stop at a gas station."

The pair stopped at a 7/11 that Rachel had pointed out. She eyed the slushy machine as she walked in. She didn't think she'd ever be able to drink one again.

Puck appeared beside her and gestured towards the back, "I'm gunna go to the bathroom, I'll be right back."

"Alright, I'll just be looking around then."

She walked over to the refrigerators, pulled out some sort of cold tea, and pressed the cold glass bottle to her side. She sighed relief as the cold numbed the pain, and walked over to a bulletin board that was on the wall by the door. Outdated concert fliers, badly designed business cards, and lost dog posters littered the cork.

She tilted her head when her eyes landed on a particular flier. A gorgeous bouquet of red and white roses was pictured in the middle.

"_House-grown Flower Bouquets. $14.99 for 12 red roses. $49.99 for 24 flower custom designed bouquet. Wide variety of flowers for any bouquet you can imagine. Pricing flexible for smaller and bigger sized arrangements. Delivered straight to your doorstep if within 100 miles from Saginaw, Michigan. Call us at (989) 793-9977 between 8AM-4PM or email us at customdesigns at fionasflorals,net. Family owned and operated."_

Something about that poster wasn't right… even though it seemed completely normal. Rachel couldn't place her finger on it, but the flyer gave her an uncomfortable feeling. There was no way this random flyer had anything to do with Quinn. It couldn't possibly be a clue. What were the chances of her finding a clue within a flier for flowers in a random gas station four hours from home? What were the chances that they were even going in the right direction?

Rachel furrowed her brows as self doubt crashed down on her. Were her hunches really enough to constitute as clues to where Quinn was?

A shocking pain ripped through her abdomen and her fingers locked as the aching shot its way through her nerves. She closed her eyes as a strangled gasp fell from her lips. A place down low that most definitely should not be on fire, was. Tears sprang to her eyes.

Yes. Her hunches were definitely enough, she thought. And what this hunch told her was, was that something horrible that shouldn't happen to anybody, was happening right now to an invigorating, gorgeous, smart girl with sharp hazel eyes and soft blonde hair.

Rachel's heart broke to pieces and barely registered the glass of the bottle she had been holding shattering as well. Her legs gave out from under her and her face felt as if it was burning from a fever. She didn't really notice the shouts from behind her or the strong arms that wrapped around her waist that caught her before she collided with the hard floor. Her stinging eyes remained locked on the poster and her heart began hardening, as anger began sweeping through her veins.

Whoever was doing this to Quinn was going to pay.

She was lifted onto her feet as her hand fumbled with the poster. Noises were invading one ear and coming straight out the other. Her jaw clenched and unclenched as she ripped the paper from the board the stumbled furiously outside.

She climbed into the drivers side of Puck's truck and looked out the windshield. Puck was throwing money at the cashier, for presumably the drink that she now saw shattered on the ground.

The boy ran quickly up the drivers side window, yelling at her, "What the hell happened back there? Are you okay? You just collapsed!"

Rachel shook her head and stuck her hand out the window, "Give me the keys."

"There's no way I'm letting you drive while you're like this!"

"Noah," She sighed and let her shoulders deflate, "Please?"

"No, Rach. You collapsed and acting really weird."

She leaned her head against the headrest and sighed. She knew he was right. She could end up getting them in a wreck miles from home. There was nothing she could do anyway, to save Quinn right now. She didn't have a set location as to where the girl was, let alone her vile captor.

She nodded, defeated, and climbed over to the passenger side. She looked out the window as Puck got into the drivers seat.

"Where to?" He asked.

"Home. Let's go home."

When they finally arrived home, Puck parked outside of Rachel's empty house. Her fathers were out working tonight.

"What really happened back there, Rachel?"

She opened the door and hopped down before turning back to him, "I think.. or… you know how I've been feeling things? Things about Quinn and if she's hurt?"

The boy nodded and ran his fingers through his mohawk, "Yeah. Was… was it bad this time?"

She knew he already knew the answer, but she swallowed and met his sad eyes, "Yes. I think… I think she…" Her throat closed up and tears welled in her eyes. Before she knew it, Puck's arms wrapped around her and she clung to him.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that, but his scratchy voice indicated that they probably had both been crying for a while now.

"You love her, don't you?"

Rachel turned her head into his chest and she nodded, "I think I've loved her longer than I've ever realized."

As Puck backed away and nodded with a sad smile, she didn't tell him that she thought Quinn had been raped. She knew Puck, and she didn't want him ending up in jail. The monster that had Quinn should be in prison, not a guy like Puck.

That night she had gone down to the basement alone. Her Daddy had recently bought a punching bag so he could build more muscle. Rachel thought it would be good practice.

In her jeans, t-shirt, and ponytail, Rachel hit the bag forcefully. She yelled and screamed and kicked with as much force as she could. Violence was never the answer, but in this case, she wasn't so sure.

She ignored the tears streaming down her face and the blood that was beginning to show on her unwrapped knuckles.

She yelled for the sadness she felt, for the animosity she held towards the evil bastard that held Quinn, and most importantly, she yelled for Quinn. She yelled the screams that Quinn wasn't able to let out. She yelled for the suffering Quinn was being put through. She yelled for the life that Quinn was handed. She yelled for the broken heart Quinn possessed.

She yelled until her knees buckled and her face was buried in her bleeding hands, crying and sobbing until the breath was all stolen from her lungs and the only tears left were the ones that left tiny puddles on the basement floor.

And now, with her bandaged hand, she slapped off the blaring alarm clock that read 6:00 AM.

She moved into the shower, foregoing her elliptical, and thought about yesterday.

Sunday, the rally at taken place in the school parking lot. Rachel was pleasantly surprised when a few hundred individuals came to offer support for the missing girl. The glee club sang a few sad, impromptu songs that many sang along to. Shirts, fliers, and phone calls were made by the people who showed up. News crews swarmed the area. Quinn's face was everywhere, and later that day when those hundreds of people began looking around town for Quinn, Rachel began to feel something that felt a little bit like hope.

Her heart ached and the space between her legs burned, but Rachel was beginning to see that a lot of people cared. It wasn't a joke to them anymore. From children, to jocks, to geeks, to the elderly, people were searching for Quinn. The brunette desperately hoped that Quinn could feel the love and hope that she was trying to direct towards her.

Rachel had confronted the police that had arrived, hoping for tips about the blonde, that she thought that Quinn may be around Saginaw, Michigan. They just smiled, shook her hand, and told her they'd look into it, and she knew that they didn't really believe her; they just saw a naive, sad sixteen year old Jewish girl with a big nose and a loud personality that probably wanted attention. She just shook her head and walked over to Puck, who wrapped his arm around her shoulder protectively and reassured her that Quinn would be found, police be damned.

When she and her fathers (whom had both taken off work to support their daughter at the rally) returned home that night, they settled down at the kitchen table and created graphs, maps, and charts about all the ideas Rachel had about Quinn's whereabouts and the things she could do to help find Quinn. Rachel knew that her fathers were wary about her hunches, but she was grateful that they still believed her unlike the police. She figured they were doing it more so out of the fact that they knew it would calm Rachel down if she had a laid out interpretation of all her ideas in front of her.

She hadn't told them, nor Puck for that matter, about the flower shop idea. She wanted to investigate that theory on her own before she revealed the information to anyone.

She created a plan as she laid in bed Sunday night. She was going to call the florist and see if she could pick up on any feelings in her gut; and if a feeling was particularly strong, she was going to keep calling and keep ordering flowers because she was going to find Quinn even if it was the last thing she'd ever do.

~0~

**6:46 AM**

Rachel walked down the stairs with damp hair and pajamas on. She had decided halfway through her shower that she really didn't feel like going to school today. Her body was throbbing everywhere, some places more than others, and she didn't think that she could write with her hands the way they were.

"Morning, baby," Her dad said with a soft smile. He could tell right away that his daughter wasn't going to even try to go to school, so he didn't ask. After seeing Rachel force her way through school the last week, and coming home to find her crying on the basement floor with bloody hands, he definitely thought that she deserved an extra couple of days off.

"Good morning, dad," She replied with a kiss to the top of his balding head, "Where's daddy?"

"He's-"

"Right here!" Leroy said brightly as he walked into the kitchen with his bunny slippers on his feet.

Rachel allowed her lips to quirk up lightly as she gave him a hug, "Mornin' daddy."

He ruffled her hair with a "morning, kiddo" before walking over and kissing his husband good morning. They all quietly shuffled around, following their own separate morning routine - none of them mentioning Rachel's upcoming school absence.

~0~

**10:07 AM**

Her phone vibrated against the glass coffee table as she laid on the couch watching various documentaries on Netflix.

She eyed it and debated whether or not she should get it since she was so comfortable. Her curiosity outweighed her comfort as she reached over and unlocked the home screen.

**Puck:** r u not here today?

She pulled the blanket that had fallen down her body, up again, and snuggled into it before replying.

**Rachel**: No. I stayed home today. I don't feel really good and my hands are hurting.

Her eyes widened when she received two text messages in a row, each from different people. She was surprised, since when had she become so popular to text?

**Unknown Number: **Berry, do you know anything about Q? I'll pour a slushy down your shirt every day if you ever repeat this, but I'm getting really worried about her.

It had to be Santana, Rachel thought. It definitely sounded like her.

**Rachel:** May I ask who this is, I don't seem to have your number in my phone? And all I know about Quinn, is what everybody else knows, is that she's missing.

Rachel didn't feel like telling Santana about her gut feelings or the flower shop plan. It wasn't any of Santana's business. If she was really so worried about Quinn, she would have come to Rachel last Monday when she had been pasting up all the posters.

She checked the other message she had received while she waited for Puck and who she presumed was Santana to reply.

**Dominic:** Hey, Rach! I heard about what's been happening this week… I'm really sorry about everything. I've been thinking, and I think it'd be good to relax for a little bit, that way you'll have a fresh mind to continue your ever vigilant search! And if not, maybe I could help you look around? I'd be more than happy to help look for Quinn with you.

Rachel swallowed thickly as she read over the message. Dominic liked her… even after she had totally forgotten about their date, he was still reaching out to her. Reaching out to help her find the girl she loved… when he liked her. Well, it's not like he knew Rachel liked Quinn, but still…

She felt guilty at blowing him off last time and begrudgingly sat up as she brought her knees to her chest.

Her thumbs hovered over the letters for a few minutes before she finally began to type out a reply.

**Rachel: **I'd be very grateful for your help, but I'm rather worn out today. What do you think about coming over to just hang out for a little while?

She mulled over her word choice for a little while, hoping that he wouldn't think "hanging out" meant anything else, but that. She decided to go with it, much too tired to begin overthinking it, and pressed send.

She went back to her inbox and clicked Pucks name.

**Puck:** next time u feel like destroying that punching bag, wrap your hands up or wear some gloves okay jew babe? feel better. txt me if u still want to drive tonight.

She typed her reply quickly as two other messages came through.

**Rachel:** I will on both fronts. Behave at school today, Puckerman.

The reply was instantaneous, before she could even get back to her inbox.

**Puck:** No promises. See ya, Berry.

She just shook her head and clicked the unknown number's message.

**Unknown Number**: It's your worst nightmare

Rachel rolled her eyes.

**Rachel:** Trust me, I'm already living it. You're dull in comparison, Santana.

Not wanting to see Dominic's response yet, she waited for the unknown number to reply.

**Unknown Number:** Damn, how did you know it was me?

**Rachel: **You have a very distinct way of talking.

Rachel quickly added the number to her contacts.

**Santana: **Hm, I'll take that as a good thing, Midget. Anyway, down to the real business, or otherwise I'll probably catch your diva through the phone. What's the scoop on Quinn? Nobody seems to know anything, and Puck won't say shit to me.

Rachel rolled her eyes and made a mental note to ask Puck to literally say the word 'shit' to Santana the next time he saw her.

**Rachel**: I already told you. I don't know much of anything either.

**Santana:** Bullshit. I saw you yesterday with your hands wrapped and I overheard your dad's talking about how it happened. You don't punch, Berry, so you have to know something big in order for you to go off like that.

Rachel rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and closed her eyes. To tell or not to tell, that was the question. She decided that she didn't trust Santana enough to tell her about her hunches. The latina would probably end up calling her insane, and she wasn't quite sure she could handle the emotional trauma today.

**Rachel:** I'm angry that she's missing and that I can't seem to do anything about it. She could be out there hurting or dying and no one would ever know. We're all a family, and nothing is right with a piece of it missing.

**Santana:** …yeah. You're right, Berry. I'm just really worried about her, ya know?

She was taken aback by Santana being so open towards her, but she didn't mention it to the girl.

**Rachel: **I know. I'm really, really worried, too.

**Santana:** Plus, Brit being all kinds of sad now that she figured out what kidnapping means is just horrible too. We three were the trinity, ya know? Now we're just…

**Rachel**: I know what you mean, Santana. I know what you mean.

**Santana:** Yeah, so if you ever tell anyone about this heart-to-heart we just had I'll make your life a living hell.

Rachel rolled her eyes, far too put out to actually care about Santana's words. She also had a sneaking suspicion that Santana didn't actually mean them.

**Rachel: **Your secret of actually having a heart is safe with me. Have a good day, Santana.

**Santana:** Yeah, yeah, Midget, you too or whatever.

Rachel shook her head fondly, glad that Quinn's supposed best friend was showing an interest. She clicked the inbox button and finally opened Dominic's message.

**Dominic**: Just hanging out sounds great! Does me being there around 2 sound good?

**Rachel:** Sounds perfect. See you then

She sighed as she turned the tv off and trudged upstairs to her room.

She sat at her desk and wrapped the blanket tighter around her as she looked down at the crinkled paper, the red roses popping brightly against the plain white background.

Her stomach flipped over as she stared at it and her heart clenched. The feeling of dread settled securely, heavily in her abdomen and chest. Her head throbbed lightly and she bit her lip unsurely.

Then, an idea struck her. If this was somehow connected to Quinn, she should probably record the evidence. She booted her computer up and quickly found the voice recorder that she frequently used when recording songs.

When it was up and running she pressed record and spoke calmly so the microphone would pick up her voice clearly, "My name is Rachel Berry. This is the first call to the florist that I believe is connected to Quinn's disappearance. I will now call the number on the florist's flier and put the phone on speaker."

She placed her phone on the desk and typed in the florists number carefully. She pressed the speakerphone button and the ringing filled the room.

The ringing stopped and a young womans voice answered, "Fiona's Florals, my name is June, how may I help you?"

Horror pounded away at Rachel's chest. Something, somewhere, was telling her that this number was connected to Quinn; that Quinn was there, with June or Fiona or whoever or whatever owned this phone. Rachel couldn't breathe, the weight that had suddenly dropped onto her chest was suffocating.

Her hands shook violently and her voice squeaked as she tried to reply, "H-hi, y-yes, my name is…" She searched around quickly, not wanting to give her real information, "Barbara Starr."

She slapped her forehead dumbly, how stupid of a name could she come up with! Her eyes had just landed on her collection of Barbara DVD's and the star mirror she had hanging on the wall.

The girl on the other side of the line spoke, "Hello, Ms. Starr. Are you okay, you sound a little winded?"

Rachel coughed and cleared her throat, "Sorry, I've come down with a cold and have had a little trouble speaking today," she swallowed and quickly used all of her acting knowledge to get into the impromptu character of 'Barbara Starr', "But, I really need to order a gorgeous bouquet for one of my friends. Her wedding is coming up, you see, and I want to congratulate her with some of the finest flowers I can find."

She could hear the false polite smile that salespeople used, coming through the line, "That's lovely, Ms. Starr. You have definitely picked the right place."

Rachel closed her eyes tightly and clenched and unclenched her throbbing hands nervously, "I sure hope so," she replied in a tone she hoped sounded older and stronger.

"What kind of flowers are you looking for and what size bouquet are you interested in?"

Rachel quickly thought through the names of flowers that she knew, and then it hit her. _Gardenias_.

"I'm looking for a dozen gardenias, wrapped in a light green ribbon."

"Wonderful choice. We just happen to have a whole new bloom of gardenias just about ready to be picked. They really smell lovely. Okay, let me just write that down here - light green ribbon."

If Quinn was there, if she was apart of this little business now, maybe, just maybe she could put it all together; because really how common of a name was Barbara Starr? And what were the chances of said Barbara ordering a large bouquet of Gardenias with a light green ribbon tied around it?

Quinn would have to know what it meant, she'd just have to.

"Would you like a message to go with the flowers? For $2 extra we can add a message on excellent quality card stock."

"Oh, what a good idea, let me think for just a moment."

"Take all the time you need," June replied.

Rachel closed her eyes tightly and thought hard. What would be something that really popped out to Quinn if the ribbon and flowers weren't enough?

"Is there a word count limit?" Rachel inquired.

"Well, the card is quite small, so you can't fit much at a sixteen point font, but if we lower the font size we could probably fit more on."

"Do you think, 'So positively gleeful for you. Love always finds a way. Always thinking of you…'" Rachel paused to think of something that would stand out besides 'gleeful' when it struck her. _Beth_. That would most definitely stick out.

"... 'Love, Barbara, Beth, and Noah,' would fit?"

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief when June's voice floated through the receiver, "That will most definitely fit! Okay… with the ribbon and message card the total comes to around $41.32."

Rachel's eyes bulged at the price. Why the hell were flowers of nature so expensive?

"Wonderful. Am I able to pay in cash when they get delivered?"

"I'm afraid we only take credit or debit cards. Also, just to let you know, for delivery, we only go 100 miles out."

Rachel rubbed her face in agitation. She was at least 200 miles away from Saginaw.

"I'll be happy to pick up the flowers then. I don't feel comfortable giving my card number out over the phone, you understand."

"Oh, completely. I don't like doing it that much either. Do you know where our storefront is located?"

Rachel's eyes scanned the flier and replied, "Unfortunately, I do not. I only have the number and email."

"That's completely fine. May I have your email then so I can email you the address?"

Rachel's eyes bulged for the hundredth time it seemed. She didn't have an email address that even resembled the name 'Barbara Starr'.

"Would it be alright if you just told it to me and I write it down? I won't be able to check my email for a while, seeing as right now my internet is down and the internet people seem to move slow as snails these days."

She heard the fake chuckle of June, "Yes, ma'am. The address is… are you ready?"

"Yes," Rachel said as her shaking hand picked up a pen.

"Okay, the address is, 1958 Brockway Street in Saginaw, MI. We're on a little farm to market road. You'll see our store front, a few greenhouses, and then there should be a house behind the storefront as well."

"Excellent. At what time do you think the flowers will be ready?"

"They're almost ready to come off the bush, but a few more days would put them at the peak of perfection. With the other orders, you're about ninth in line, so your flowers should be ready for pick up around Thursday at noon."

"That sounds perfect. I'll be there then, thank you."

"Thank you for your business. Have a good day, Ms. Starr."

"You too."

Rachel pressed the end call button with shaky hands and similarly pressed the stop recording button on her computer.

Quinn was in Saginaw, Michigan, she had to be.

* * *

She looked herself in the mirror for the first time in what felt like ages. Her eye was a gross, fading, purple-orange color and the scar from James punching her temple was beginning to form. She didn't look like herself at all. She didn't recognize the hazel eyes, the light brownish blonde hair she naturally had was beginning to show at her roots. Her lips were dry and her skin had lost its glow.

She stared at herself blankly and tilted her head. It had been so long since she had first arrived.

It had to have been over a week.

She lifted her ragged shirt and looked at the purple boot-sized bruise that colored her side. She had gotten it as a wakeup call the day after she had met her 'sisters'. James had definitely not woken up on the right side of the bed that morning.

That day held something she would never forget.

He had slapped her hard after she had spent time with the girls. He yelled at her for prying too much for information about them. She tried to defend herself saying she just wanted to be close to her new sisters, but he didn't seem to care. He just threw her down onto her cot, the evil burning in his eyes violently.

He had dug his nails into her wrists and continued to scream at her in a fashion that reminded her way too much of her real father.

He kneed her violently in the stomach and scratched his sharp nails roughly down her arms until skin was scraped off. Tears poured from her eyes involuntarily, it only made him angrier.

He had ripped off her elastic shorts and underwear. She sobbed unendingly as roughly held her down, not letting her be able to use her legs in defense like last time.

"I'll fucking show you, Ivy. I told you that you would fucking pay. It's time to pay up, you fucking bitch ass."

She squirmed desperately and clenched her legs together as much as she could. His hands pressed hard down with all of his body weight onto her thighs; she thought her femurs were going to snap under the pressure. She cried out in pain as he suddenly slammed his fingers into her. She thrashed unendingly against her, screaming and sobbing and clawing at him. He only stopped when there was a knock at the door.

He extracted himself from her forcefully and pushed her down onto the bed. He stomped over to the door and threw it open angrily.

"What?" He snarled.

Peony looked up at him before looking at Quinn on the bed, "Daddy, Mary said she wants to play."

Quinn watched at James' demeanor changed and his shoulders fell, "Daddy is playing with Ivy right now."

Quinn watched her through her shaking and tears as Peony put on a pout, "Mary hasn't gotten to play in a while. She'll be a good girl. I'll teach Ivy how to be a good girl for you."

She shuddered as she watched James lean down and kiss Peony on the lips, "You're a smart girl, Peony."

Peony just nodded and stepped out of the way, "Mary is in the private room."

James left without looking back and Peony walked in, sizing Quinn up.

"You really shouldn't fight him, Ivy."

Quinn sobbed louder and hid her face in her hands. She felt a rough blanket be slid over her.

Suddenly, Peony spoke in a whisper with an accent that sounded as if she were from New York instead of Michigan, "Mary offered to save you. The first time is always the worst."

A hand began running through Quinn's hair and soft 'shh's' were filling Quinn's ear, "It'll be okay. The girls and I will look out for you. Something's different about you. You shouldn't be here."

"W-why are you being so nice to me?" Quinn choked out, "I thought you didn't like me at all."

"Just because I've been here the longest and I'm the most badass one, doesn't mean I forgot how terrible the first week was. This.. this is my home now. But you… I can see that this will never become your home."

Quinn curled into a ball, the space between her legs was on fire, but she thanked whoever was listening above that it didn't get as far as it could have.

"I'll do what I can to make sure he doesn't get all the way with you," Peony said as if she had read Quinn's mind.

The light haired brunette brought Quinn's head onto her lap and stroked her fingers through the blonde hair. Quinn sniffled and whispered, "Where are you really from?"

"New York, New York. The big apple. I was taken in 2008," The girl brushed Quinn's growing bangs from her face, "Sometimes I forget that my real name isn't Peony. It's been three years since I've been called Paige. It's been so long that it doesn't feel right anymore."

Quinn thought about New York and all the dreams it held. The endless possibilities and the opportunities that awaited for a certain chocolate-eyed brunette.

"Can I know about the others?"

Moans started filling the house and she turned her face into Peony's stomach, "You get used to it, eventually, Ivy, the noises I mean. Mary and the rest of us pretend to like it, that way it's over quicker."

Quinn's eyes filled with tears and her heart with sorrow. These poor girls had saved her, for absolutely no reason at all except for the fact that they saw something in her that she couldn't even see anymore.

"Anyway, June, she got here in 2009. She's from Fort Wayne, Indiana. Her real name is Burnadette. She's the bravest out of all of us, willing to interrupt James and treat him like a dad instead of a master. She's protected me more than a few times from James' wrath. I think she's James' favorite."

Quinn nodded and found comfort in the warmth Peony was providing, it helped more than she thought to know the background of the girls.

"And Mary… Mary's real name is Lillian. She's is from Findlay, Ohio. She was brought in, in 2010. She is the quiet brave soul. She won't stand up to James, but she will protect us. Like she's doing now, giving herself up so that you can put off the pain of submittance a while longer. We are all stuck in this together. We have tried to find ways out, but it's proved difficult. Someone is always watching us. Even when we run the store that's in front of the house, there's no way to get away. All of us have tried. And now, for me at least, this is my home. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else. The fake accent I use, my age, my name, it's all become a part of me."

Quinn furrowed her brow and gripped at the rough shirt that Peony wore, with shaking hands, "Will you help me put my pants on?"

She felt humiliated having to ask, but she didn't think she could move or complete the task without the extra support. Peony just nodded and slid the garments up Quinn's legs quickly, not prying, staring, or making her uncomfortable.

Peony stood and looked at Quinn with an expression couldn't quite put her finger on… pity maybe?

"Someone out there is looking for you, Ivy. I can feel it. Maybe you'll be a lucky one."

And with that, Peony walked out, closing the door behind her quietly.

And now, as she stared at herself in the mirror, remembering that she wasn't alone in this, her lips quirked up for the first time in a long time. Maybe she was a lucky one after all, and maybe, just maybe, she could rub some of that luck off onto the other girls.

She looked up at the yellowing ceiling and bit her lip cautiously. She had been slipping in her faith the last few days, but as her heart filled with hope that maybe she actually was lucky enough for God to not leave her alone, she sent up a quick prayer, asking for strength, faith, and the ability to be as brave as her sisters; and a whisper of, _"we live by faith, not by sight."_

**A/N: **I am getting so excited about this story it is ridiculous. I'm pretty sure I just spent like four hours writing. I'm finally getting a grasp on how to close this story up and I'm very excited to write it all out. I wish I could keep writing (I already have some of chapter 6 done), but apparently I am required to go socialize tonight (help). Reviews, comments, and suggestions are all greatly welcomed and appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	6. I Can See It

**A/N: **I am extremely in love with this chapter and I hope that you will fall in love with it too. As always, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading.

**Chapter Six:** ~4,105 words - Published 8/28/14

**Warnings:** _None_ (Can you believe it?)

* * *

**2:00 PM**

Right on the dot, the doorbell rang. Rachel sighed as walked down the stairs slowly. She was now dressed in a black skirt and one of her infamous animal sweaters. Her bare feet felt cold against the tile that led to the front door.

She turned the knob and opened the door with a polite smile, "Hello."

"Hey, Rachel," the boy smiled and stepped in when Rachel motioned for him to.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

Dominic shook his head, "No, thank you though."

Rachel nodded and began her way upstairs, "Come on, then."

They walked into Rachel's bedroom, and Dominic quickly made himself at home as he sat in the pink chair in the corner of Rachel's room. Rachel sat at her desk chair and folded her sore hands awkwardly in her lap. Now what do they do?

"You look tired," Dominic said with a tilt to his head and a concerned smile on his lips.

"That's because I am," Rachel chuckled as she ran a hand through her bangs. Tired couldn't even begin to describe how she felt.

"What's that wrapped on your hands?"

Dominic moved to get up, but she just shook her hands at him, "No, no, sit, I'm fine. I just hurt my hands on Saturday. No need to worry, they are properly bandaged and cleaned."

Dominic relaxed against the chair, "Good. I wouldn't want you to be hurt."

Oh, but she was. She was hurt. She was sad and broken. Even though she believed she was steps closer to getting to Quinn, to saving her, she didn't have any solid evidence. The only thing she had was this seemingly supernatural power to feel Quinn's pain and Quinn's presence. If she were to take those feelings to a police officer, she figured they'd just laugh at her.

Dominic's eyes landed on her computer and saw the audio waves that filled the work area of the audio program, "What are you working on? A new song?"

Her eyes widened as she turned around to look at the screen. It was the recording of the phone call. She had listened to it more times than she wanted to admit, trying to place the trepidation in her gut and listen for anything in the background. Each time she came up with nothing.

She quickly clicked away the screen and gave Dominic a quick smile, "No, no, I was just analyzing some voice tracks."

The boy got up and moved over to Rachel, dragging the small chair with him. He plopped down next to Rachel, "Can you show me?"

Rachel internally groaned and bit her lower lip in thought. She did have stripped voice tracks on her computer, but she wasn't really in the mood to listen to them.

"It's not that interesting of a thing to do," She laughed lightly, but she was saved when he seemed to move on to another subject - the flier.

She furrowed her brows in agitation as he picked up the single sheet of paper for the florist. She was about to tell him to put it down when he commented on it, "Hey, this is my grandparents shop."

Rachel's jaw fell open and her eyes widened comically, "_What?"_

"Yeah," Dominic laughed at Rachel's expression, "Small world after all, huh?"

She sputtered, trying to wrap her head around the idea, "Y-y-yeah."

Dominic's _grandparents_ were Quinn's _kidnappers?_

"I'm supposed to go visit them this week. Apparently I have another new aunt. They adopt someone new every year now. They're all pretty weird at first, but once they get used to our family they are really cool."

Rachel swallowed thickly as her mouth ran dry.

"_Another new aunt."_

Her heart was screaming _"Quinn!"_ and her mind was running a mile a minute, but she took a deep breath through her nose trying to calm herself. Her eyes scanned over the sheet of paper that the boy still held onto and she traced her way up his toned arm to his face. His eyes held amusement and no sign that he held the knowledge of what his grandparents were possibly capable of. Dominic didn't give her any negative vibes as she stared at him.

Her mind debated all the possibilities at lightning speed; he could know what his grandparents are capable of, and could possibly harm her if she were to mention it; he could know nothing about his grandparents and she could shatter their family without actually having any solid proof; he could not know about his grandparents, but she could tell him and he could help her rescue Quinn.

She bit her lip contemplatively as she gave the boy a quick smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Let's go watch some tv down stairs?"

The boy clapped once before he pushed himself out of the small chair, "Sounds good to me, Rach. You're the boss."

Rachel just responded with a small nod and led him to the living room.

* * *

It had been at least a few of hours since she had looked in the mirror for the first time in over a week. She laid locked in her room, staring up at the ceiling.

She didn't know how long she had been staring up there, unwavering, waiting for whatever she was thinking could possibly happen, happen. Maybe a S.W.A.T. team would break through the ceiling, or a plethora of angels. She tilted her head as she counted the different shapes should could pick out in the ceiling's pattern. So far she had found a dog, a paintbrush, and a tree, in the splattered plaster ceiling.

Her breaths were shallow and her mind had soft thoughts instead of the heavy, depressed ones that she had started to become accustomed to. She felt relatively at peace, considering the situation she was currently in.

Her fingers reached up to the space between her collarbone absentmindedly, and when her brain processed the fact that her cross necklace wasn't lying there, a feeling of sadness overwhelmed her. She had, had hope earlier today. She realized she needed to have faith that God would protect her. She knew she wasn't technically alone, but sometimes, as she would lay in 'her' room, she did feel alone. She felt like God wasn't there, that her 'sisters' weren't there for her - which she was pretty sure wasn't true on either front. She needed faith, but as she lay here alone once more, she was scared that she might not have enough - if any at all.

For the first time throughout the hours she had been contained within this hellhole of a house, she let her mind think of what she had at home.

She had a house - a real house - one that had an actual bed and a refrigerator she could open anytime she wanted; it wasn't a home per se, but it was a house. In that house she had her collection of books. Two bookshelves full, from short stories to large anthologies, full of words that she could lose herself in. She had her childhood stuffed animals that she had begun to take for granted - forgetting how many nights that those soft animals comforted her when she was lonely - sitting on the top of those full bookshelves. Her closet was full of clean clothes, ones that she had never even put on before, but had been in there for ages. There was a bathroom with a fully functioning shower and soaps that smelled of vanilla or lavender. Just down the stairs of her house and into the back, led to a glass door. A door that was always locked, but was easily opened when she needed air to breathe. The backyard had been her safe haven, especially when her father used stomp around drunkenly. And most importantly, there was a cushioned rocking chair, with light blue upholstery, in the study where she would sit when she was pregnant, but her family didn't know yet; her hand lightly pressed upon her stomach and soft music playing in the background as her head became clear and devoid of all thoughts.

And in those moments, when her thoughts would creep into her brain between the crescendo of the music and the dramatic fall, she would think of what the future would hold. Behind her closed eyes, she would see her stomach growing larger and eventually a baby would form in the picture - a baby with ten small toes and two eyes and one tiny nose. She would see short, curly, blonde hair and smile with missing teeth. Then, a toddler dancing around the house in her diaper as music would fill the air.

From there her thoughts would skew because there would always be a voice accompanying the playing song. A voice that was angelic and powerful; one that could capture an audience, but one that could be as soft as a breath of air when singing a lullaby to the now tired dancing toddler. And when the toddler was snoring quietly in her crib - the crib that was helped painted yellow by the owner of that angelic voice - the voice and she would lay down in the same bed, legs intertwined and the voice would whisper sweet nothings in her ear when she was sad or even when she was happy, and breathe breathy moans instead when their passion would consume them.

And when that was over, her cheeks thoroughly blushed in contrast to the light blue chair she sat on, she would look at the owner of the voice in her thoughts and become surprised when she met the deep chocolate eyes - as if she expected someone else - it was never someone else.

And then, she would kiss the lips - with full knowledge on who they they belonged to - the lips that held onto every word that passed between them, that held every secret those chocolate eyes said they knew, and let out every breath that kept her lungs expanding and contracting. She would kiss those lips softly, memorizing the way they felt. Her fingers would always tangle themselves in soft brown locks, and she's press herself a little harder into the owner of that voice. And when those lips would connect themselves to her throat and suck in just the right way, she'd breathe out, _"Rachel"_, and the world would crash around her and her eyes would open to only see a lifeless room that held nothing but reference books and an old, worn out record player, but most importantly a room that held that light blue upholstered rocking chair.

And somewhere in between her thoughts of home and finding the shape of a bat on the ceiling, her eyes slid shut and her thoughts became dreams.

She was in a church. It felt familiar, but she was sure that she had never been here before. The stained glass windows left colored shapes on the wooden floor as sunlight shone through the panes. Her back was rigid against the hard, wooden pew and the pulpit was abandoned; nothing was up there, no instruments, crosses, flowers, or anything - except a lone podium.

She stood up slowly, finally looking down, taking herself in. She wore a black baby doll dress that went to her knees and she tilted her head curiously when she realized her feet were bare. She lifted her eyes again and noticed that something on the podium was reflecting the sunlight. She stepped closer and furrowed her brow contemplatively; had that been there a minute ago?

Her feet, cold against the wooden floor, guided her up the stage's hard, purple-carpeted stairs and to the podium. The worn leather bound book was open to its middle, its pages were trimmed in shiny gold. It looked like a Bible, one that had been read hundreds of times, if the frayed edges were anything to go by, but the thin pages held no words.

There had to be something there, right? Her heartbeat picked up and panic began to take over her. Her fingers trembled as she flipped through the pages frantically, hoping desperately that she would find something, _anything_, in the slightly discolored pages. She felt as if the whole church building that she was standing in was falling as she fell to her knees when no words appeared. Only white, worn pages, clean and unblemished by ink.

Her breaths were deep and labored and her fingernails dug into the thin, rough carpet. Her body trembled and her eyes prickled with unshed tears. She was completely and utterly alone. There were no words in the Bible for her. No message of hope, no message of love.

She hiccupped and curled in on herself pathetically, burying her head in her hands and rocking. Movement being her only comfort.

Her ears picked up on sound, but she couldn't bring herself to find out what it was. She didn't want to look up, the darkness her hands provided shielded her, confined her, placated her.

The sound grew louder, she didn't have to search around to know. It was wind. The building shook as the wind pounded against the colored glass, and against the door in the back of the room. The strong oak door began to bulge as if a three-hundred pound strong-arm were running into it from the other side, trying to break the lock in.

The wind picked up to an impossible rate, as if a tornado were just outside. The sound was deafening and she finally lifted her head so that she could cover her ears with her hands. It was as if the wind was screaming at her, trying to convey a message to her that she couldn't quite understand.

Her brain went against her heart, telling her that maybe if she opened the door that the wind would die down. She didn't want to let the wind in. It was so powerful, so strong. She didn't know if she would even have the strength to stand up if she did let it in.

Despite her fears she walked carefully over to the door that pounded against its hinges every second as the wind blew violently against it. She gulped and her hand shook as it hovered above the door handle. Gathering her strength, she gripped the handle and twisted.

Immediately, she was thrown backwards. The wind surrounded her and the pages of the gold-trimmed book fluttered violently, but the book itself stayed put as if held there by an invisible force.

She landed with a thud and an grunt as she slid to a stop in the middle of the aisle. She wind circled around her, so fast it seemed as if she could actually see the air blowing around her. Her hair was blowing every which way, and her shaking hands held down the skirt tightly.

It created a vortex around her, circling fast as if it were trying to drill its way into her body. The door slammed shut and her head shot up just as fast. The wind still circled her, but the rest of the room was still.

"_Stand up, Lucy,"_ A deep, powerful voice boomed; in a way that was protective and patient, not in a way that was scary or demanding.

Her eyes looked up at the sky above her and her hands shook in fear.

"_Do not be afraid, Lucy. I've been here with you all along. You know there is nothing to be scared of."_

She nodded, still fearful. She knew in her heart that there was no reason to be afraid, but she just couldn't seem to help it. Maybe it wasn't the voice that scared her, but everything else in her life.

She stood on her wobbly legs and bit her lip nervously.

A trickle of calm travelled through her body as the wind died down around her. It indeed was now a small visible tornado, and it made its way up the stage stairs to the podium.

"_Come here."_

She took her steps carefully, as if the boards she walked on were going to splinter or as if one mess up would anger the voice.

"_Take your steps with pride. If you falter, all will be well."_

Her feet stopped where they were and her hazel eyes looked at the turning wind suspiciously, "How did you know what I was thinking?"

The booming voice laughed and the wind travelled over to her again. It seemed as if only a strand on the wind extracted itself from the turning cone and caressed her cheek, like the softest hand.

"_The very hairs of your head are all numbered."_

Her eyebrows cinched together and her lips became pursed, "What does that mean?"

The voice just laughed again and the wind returned to the podium, _"Come up here."_

This time she made it up to the pulpit, standing beside the wind and in front of the podium. Her hair and the pages of the blank book fluttered gently in the air.

"_Look at the book. What do you see?"_

Her eyes looked over the blank pages, "Nothing."

"_Look closer."_

She leaned closer to the book and squinted her eyes. All that filled her vision was white blank pages, "There's nothing there," She said as she stood up again.

"_That's because you don't believe that there could actually be anything there. It wasn't there the first time, why would it be there the second or third time?"_

She looked at the swirling air and considered the words. Why would it be there the second time if it wasn't there the first?

"_There are words there. Even if you are not able to see something the first time, does not mean that it's not there. If you are not able to see it the second or third or fourth, fifth, sixth, time it does not mean that it's not there. It just means that you're not opening your eyes and heart enough."_

The wind came closer, her clothes and hair fluttered more fully. The books blank pages turned quickly, fluttering and flapping until the wind stepped away.

"_I want you to close your eyes and push all of your knowledge out of your head. I want you to let your fear go from your heart. Then, open both - your eyes and your heart - and look at that page."_

She bit her lip and looked at the blank page. What was the worst that could happen?

She closed her eyes and focused on letting go. Her shoulders fell and her rigid back slumped. Her fear and the heaviness in her heart left as much as she could get it to. She opened her eyes and looked straight ahead before letting her eyes drop to the book.

A quiet gasp left her lips as she read over the words, _"'For I assure you: If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will tell this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."_

Her finger shook as she traced over the ink, "I can see it."

She could hear the smile in the voice, _"Of course you can, my child, you have always had the ability to see it. You have to let go of what others tell you, let go of your fear, let go of your doubts, and then go forth with your life because then surely whatever it is you're searching for will find you instead of you finding it."_

The pages of the book fluttered again, flipping quickly as the wind gathered some more speed. It stopped on another page with words that she could see, _"__And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."_

"_Remember, Lucy, that love is the fulfillment of the law. Hatred is evil. Love is what conquers. Hope that you will make it through this, have faith that you will be in My hands, and love Me, those poor girls, yourself, and those back home who drive you."_

The pages flipped quickly before she could even respond, _"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."_

The pages continued to turn rapidly, her eyes soaked in as many words as she could, the booming protective voice read each word with meaning and conviction, and her heart swelled with love and hope.

"_When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me? - Remember that you are immortal, Lucy, if you have faith. Your time spent on Earth will be dull in comparison to the time you spend in Heaven. Whatever happens here, I will be with you. There is life after death, Lucy. He died on the cross for you. You have been saved. There is no condemnation through Christ."_

The pages turned quickly in the wind once more, _"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. - He is hunting you, Lucy. The devil will eat you up if you let him, but you must always let me in. I will protect you."_

Verse after verse filled the pages, and her eyes widened when she recognized the next one as clear as day, "Answer me when I call to you, O my righteous God. Give me relief from my distress; be merciful to me and hear my prayer…" She looked at the swirling wind, "I used to say that when my father would yell at me."

"_I know, my child, and how did the verse help you?"_

She looked back over the words, "I always felt calm after."

The voice didn't respond, but she knew He had heard her and acknowledged it as He kept turning the pages and reading the script, _"He who overcomes will, like them, be dressed in white. I will never blot out his name from the book of life, but will acknowledge his name before my Father and his angels."_

She looked down as the wind swirled around her. Her dress began fading, from black to white. Tears prickled in her eyes and laughter bubbled up in her throat.

The smile was clear in the voice, _"__I also clothed you with embroidered cloth and put sandals of porpoise skin on your feet; and I wrapped you with fine linen and covered you with silk."_

The wind swirled around her feet and soon she wore light brown leather sandals.

She looked at the wind as it moved to the side and with a smile on her face she said, "Thank you."

"_I will be your God throughout your lifetime-until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you."_

A necklace appeared around her neck and her fingers went to it immediately. She smiled. It was a glass cross with a mustard seed inside of it. The weight of it settled between her collarbone, and the residual weight in her heart lifted.

_"I cannot promise that everything in your life will be easy. I cannot promise that this peace you feel will always be felt. I cannot tell you that things will not be difficult sometimes. But know that you are strong enough to make it through the situations you have been put in; know that I will be with you through it all. Keep faith and you will always prevail."_

The wind swirled around her again, kicking her hair up in all directions and her dress fluttering around her knees. The wind swirled around her and the voice boomed louder and with authority, _"Fight, for you are strong enough. Fear not. Fight for what you know it is right. Fight for freedom. You're more powerful than any evil being."_

She wind circled into a gust of visible air and dust and rushed quickly through the open space. It flew over the pews and in front of the stained glass windows. The doors flew open and the wind exited, the doors slamming shut immediately after.

And then, she was left alone.

But then again, not really.

* * *

**A/N: **Ugh yes good things. Okay! So I promised a couple of people that I would show Dominic's role in the story in this chapter... which I did.. sorta. I showed how he's connected to everything, so I promise there is a reason he's here. I don't want to be throwing random characters in for no reason at all. For those who hate Puck... I'm sorry, I'm in love with Puckleberry bromances and I believe that he would be worried so he's here to stay.

Verses used: Luke 12:7, Matthew 17:20, 1 Corinthians 13:13, Deuteronomy 31:6, Psalm 56:3-4, 1 Peter 5:6-8, Psalm 4:1, Revelation 3:5, Ezekiel 16:10, Isaiah 46:4. Comments, suggestions, thoughts, reviews, and critiques are all welcomed and very appreciated! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading!


	7. Please Don't Run

**A/N:** Hello! Thank you so much for all the reviews. I sincerely hope that you enjoy this chapter!

**Chapter Seven:** ~4,935 Words - Published 9/7/2014 (Happy Band Geeks Spongebob episode birthday)

**Warnings:** _None_

* * *

She woke up almost serenely, as if all the bad things in her life had never actually happened and the large weight of life or death wasn't resting on her. She stretched and sighed quietly, happily cocooned in a sleepy haze. It was the best sleep she'd had in ages.

The small window in the room let her know it was nighttime now. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up; the bones of her neck, shoulder, and back popping loudly.

She groaned quietly and stretched her arms behind her as she studied the dark room. There wasn't much to make out; boxes upon boxes of junk - from candlesticks to tape decks to old torn up shoes. With her week-long shackled ankles, she shuffled over to one of the boxes. She dug through it quietly, examining the contents. An old rusting metal file, some bundled up socks, and batteries of all sizes met her.

Her heart and body alike jumped as a loud resonating knock resounded on the door. She quickly shuffled to the bed and sat, but as the knob rattled from being unlocked, one thing echoed in her head - a voice that wasn't her own - a powerful voice booming, "Fight!"

She gathered her courage and stood. Her hand grabbed the metal candlestick sticking out from the closest box.

The knob turned and the door opened, she stepped forward and swung with all her might. A sharp yelp came from the intruder and Quinn's eyes widened as the sharp edge of the top of the candlestick swung into a cardboard box.

She had almost hit June in the neck.

The candlestick dropped to the floor with a loud thump and Quinn stumbled back fearfully. She had almost beat June. James' favorite. One of her new sisters.

The door slammed shut and an glowering June stomped over to Quinn, "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Ivy?"

Her hands trembled and tears unwillingly gathered in her eyes, "I thought you were James."

June set her jaw and cocked her head at Quinn, a scrutinizing glare boring into Quinn's eyes, "Why in the world would you do such a thing to Dad?"

The blonde furrowed her brows and sniffled. Wasn't June supposed to not like James? Why was she calling him Dad without him here?

"Because I'm scared and angry," She answered back carefully.

"You better be fucking grateful, Ivy," June stepped forward, a menacing finger pointing towards her, "That James wasn't here. You'd be fucking gone, understand? You wouldn't be here anymore!"

A sob gurgled up in Quinn's throat and she failed to hold it. It escaped past her lips and her body began to tremble, "I-I j-just want to go h-home."

The redhead sighed and turned towards the door, "Yeah, yeah, we've all wanted that, but it isn't going to happen so it's best if you just accept the fact that you're stuck here, okay? The faster you do, the less everything hurts."

Quinn wrapped her arms around her stomach and curled into herself, "I'm going to get out of here somehow, and I want to take you three with me."

June turned around fiercely and stepped toe to toe with the blonde, "You are going to die, all of us will die if you attempt to leave. You aren't strong enough to leave, look at you, you're a fucking mess right now."

Quinn's eyes narrowed and her back strengthened to it's full length. She wasn't about to be belittled because she happened to be stressed and afraid for all the right reasons. Her full signature HBIC glare hardened her features and her tears left her.

"I'm not a fucking mess," She poked a finger threateningly to June's chest, "I have been surprisingly strong given the situation and I'd appreciate it if you acknowledged it as such. I won't be criticized for having a hard time accepting the fact I've been kidnapped."

The redhead looked as if she was about to refute the fact, but Quinn held her hand up, "No. Listen. I got pregnant at sixteen, got kicked out of my own house by my abusive father and alcoholic mother, and had to give up my daughter. Now, on top of all that emotional stress, I've been kidnapped by an abusive psychotic man who has already given me a black eye, a few scars, pulled my shoulder from my socket, severely bruised my ribs, tried to rape me twice, molested me, and starved me all in the span of a week! I have the fucking right to be _fucking_ upset!"

Her chest heaved from the lack of air in her lungs and her eyes shot daggers into June's. She folded her arms and huffed when a smirk popped up on the other girls face, "What?"

The redhead just mimicked her pose and kept smirking, "I knew you weren't just a blubbering baby."

Quinn's jaw dropped incredulously, "You insulted me just so I would get angry?" She stepped back and shrieked, "What is wrong with you!"

The girl just laughed and shook her head, "Sis, when you've been here for a couple years you find ways to entertain yourself. Plus, I needed to get you out of your self pity. It's sickening if I'm being honest."

Quinn huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, "It was mean of you."

June rolled her eyes, "Yeah, but seriously, about earlier, don't try to assault Da-James. You're going to get us all killed, and despite the circumstances I do want to stay alive, thank you very much."

Quinn sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, "Do you mind if I ask why you call him Dad when he isn't around?

"Force of habit now, easier to get used to saying Dad so I don't get it trouble," she shrugged.

The blonde nodded and bit her lip, "So, why'd you come in here in the first place?"

"What, before you tried to slice my neck open?"

Quinn huffed and rolled her eyes, "_Yeah,_" She replied sarcastically.

"You're helping us with some orders today," The redhead began walking towards the door and motioned for her to put her shoes on, "We have a backlog and I need all three of you to help me fill them."

Quinn sat on the edge of her got and pulled her shoes on before she trailed behind her into the house, "Orders? Peony mentioned a shop, but what is it?"

"James and Fiona own a flower shop. We're their work pigs. I answer the phone, take orders, and work the storefront for walkins. Peony wraps the flowers and prints the cards. Marigold picks the flowers and waters them. Today we will all be picking flowers and wrapping them. We have to increase the speed or the company is going to seriously fall behind and not get all the orders done in time."

"Why are we doing this at nighttime?"

"No one will come into the shop because it's closed so everyone is able to work on the orders with no distraction."

"If you three are out of the house all the time… why can't you get away?"

June sighed and slowed her walk, turning towards Quinn, "If one of us leaves, the other two will die."

"Why can't you all three run together at the same time?"

June shook her head, "One of us is always watched at all times. While James and Fiona might not be my real parents, the other girls are my sisters now, and there is no way I would ever leave them behind to face James' wrath."

Quinn furrowed her brows and nodded in understanding; she would never be able to leave another girl - 'sister' or not - behind to live - or die - in these conditions.

"Now, come on, Dad and the girls are waiting for us."

They walked through the house, or Quinn shuffled at least, and made it to the front door. June's hand hovered over the knob and her shouldered slackened. She kept looking at the knob and muttered, "When I open the door, please don't run."

Quinn shook her head slightly even though she knew June couldn't see her and moved her foot back and forth so the chain would jangle, "I couldn't if I tried."

They both knew Quinn meant more than the chains would hold her back.

The knob turned, "I know this is hard. I've been here two years and it's still hard. But I love those two other girls more than I love myself and if either of them have to go through James beating them again I will lose it and all three of us will die. So… thank you for understanding okay? If I find a way for you to get out, I'll make sure you do. Oh... and I'm sorry for making you think about all that shitty stuff earlier. I didn't know about your.. daughter or the extent of what James had done."

The door was pulled opened and Quinn looked out at the open earth. She swallowed thickly and shuffled onto the porch with June. She could try to run. She could. But she knew she wouldn't make it past the flower shop building that was next to the road. She also knew that she couldn't put punishment on the other girls for her own safety. She was manipulative and selfish sometimes, but she wasn't evil.

She nodded towards June and bit her lip nervously, "Okay."

June eyed her warily, and for the first time Quinn caught a glimpse of Bernadette, not June. She was tired, aged, scarred, and sad. Once upon a time, she was probably a girl that didn't like to curse and a girl that held a thousand dreams - each one within her grasp. But now, she only looked defeated; absolutely torn down and robbed of her own self - taken from everything that had made her, her.

The redhead kneeled down on one knee and produced a small key from her pocket, "Okay."

She inserted the key into the ankle cuffs and turned until the latches clicked and Quinn's ankles were freed.

"I have some lotion; I'll give you some later for the chaffing."

Quinn just let out a small smile and nodded her thanks. Her ankles popped loudly as she rolled them and her knees did the same as she bent and extended them. She practically moaned at each freeing pop.

"Thank you, seriously, that feels so much better," She told June.

June just looked up at her with nervous eyes and nodded. Quinn turned towards the front of the porch and eyed the road that was at the end of the long driveway, lit by random streetlights. She was a seasoned runner, she could make it. There had to be a gas station close by, right? She could run. She took a deep breath as she took her first step down the porch stairs.

She looked up at the dark night sky littered with shining stars. She easily found the north star twinkling brightly and it reminded her of stages and lights and that one damn voice. She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear it, and shot up a prayer asking for strength and protection and forgiveness for the decision she was about to make.

She turned towards June and held out her hand, "Are you coming or what? We have orders to fill."

* * *

**8:34 PM**

It was about the longest day in Rachel's life next to the day she found out Quinn was missing. For six and a half hours she and Dominic had sat in her den watching movies. More so it was Dominic watching and Rachel having a six and a half hour long internal debate with herself on what she should do.

Sometime around 5:30 she had felt the weight in her stomach settle, as if telling her the missing girl was sleeping. A wave of peacefulness had washed over her and she relaxed as much as her thoughts would let her. Then, around fifteen minutes ago, her heart rate had spiked and her limbs began tingling with excitement. Quinn was awake, and Rachel could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins and could feel the sadness come crashing down on her moments later. She felt the flurry of emotion and then she felt resolve and bravery.

Rachel clenched her fists and fed off of the bravery that Quinn was feeling. If Quinn could feel brave in her current situation then certainly she, herself, could feel brave just asking if Dominic knew anything about Quinn.

"Domi-"

"Rache-"

They both spoke at the same time and Rachel laughed shakily, "Sorry you go first."

Dominic just smiled, "No, you go first."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Dominic."

The boy held up his hands playfully, "Okay, okay, I was just going to ask if you wanted to go up to my grandparents with me this week?"

Rachel's eyes widened and Dominic must have noticed because he spoke quickly, "I mean, I know that we aren't like together or anything so it's kind of weird for me to ask you if you want to meet part of my family, but I always get nervous when I go meet one of my new aunts and I just don't want to go up there alone this time. It'd be cool to have a friend with me. Especially you, so they don't end up making fun of me for being in dance class."

Rachel's heart was thumping wildly and her mouth gaped open slightly. That was the last thing she had been expecting. She had expected that she would ask casually about his grandparents, how their shop was and what his 'aunts' were like, and then she'd act like she was incredibly invested into flowers and he'd offer to take her up there after she used her powerfully effective puppy dog pout on him under the guise that she really, really, _really_ wanted to see a working greenhouse up close and personal.

Him asking flat-out was a _whole_ lot easier. She internally cheered that she was that much closer to possibly finding Quinn.

Dominic was looking at her nervously and she realized that she should probably say something.

"I… yeah, I'd be happy to accompany you to your grandparents," She flashed a fake smile and placed what she hoped was a reassuring hand on his forearm, "Maybe we can give them a preview of one of our routines and they can see first hand that there is nothing to be made fun of."

Something sparkled in Dominic's eyes, but it passed too quickly for Rachel to tell what it was. The boy smiled and clapped his hands before he stood up, "Awesome. I'm going up there Wednesday. I can pick you up around 3?"

Rachel stood and walked him to the front door, "That sounds perfect. I'll be ready then."

Dominic gave her a hug before heading out to his car. She waved and fell against the door when he was out of sight.

She had just agreed to walk right into a kidnappers house willingly.

What was she getting herself into?

* * *

**8:57 PM**

For the first time in over a week Quinn knew what time it was. Never in her entire life did she think she would be so ecstatic to see a clock; she would have squealed when she walked into the flower shop only to see a wall clock hanging there by the bathroom door if James hadn't been there eyeing her like she was about to take off.

For the last thirty minutes or so, she and the other girls had been wrapping flowers. Everything almost felt normal given the situation - as if they were all just a couple of teens working in a flower shop. James had gone off to town - for alcohol if the girls were right, and Fiona was in the front of the store cleaning up. Quinn could tell it was a rare moment that the girls were able to relax. She happily joined in, laughing and talking about the mushy cards that people had the audacity to send.

"Oh, listen to this one, 'Billy Jean, I never meant to hurt you. Please take me back, I'll make it worth your while. Love, Your Billy Joe.'"

Quinn and Peony laughed, while Mary smiled gently at the hillbilly backwoods accent June had given to 'Billy Joe's' words.

Peony smiled as she tied a red ribbon around the bunch of white roses, "It sounds like he's offering a deal she can't pass up. 'I'll make it worth your while'? Oh please!"

Quinn just shook her head and chuckled at the other girls antics as she took the card from June and placed it in the white roses. She handed the bunch to Mary who took them with a kind smile and a nod, and went over to do the paperwork and pack the flowers away for delivery.

"What's next, Lil?"

Quinn's eyes snapped to Peony's and then to Mary's. It was the first time she had heard one of the girls actually be called by their first name. Peony rolled her eyes and whispered to Quinn, "She responds better to her name, don't make a big deal out of it. She'll regress."

Quinn nodded and quickly busied herself with wrapping some loose string back around its spindle.

"A dozen gardenias…" Quinn furrowed her brows as Mary trailed off, and shook off the memories that now seemed so far away, "Darn it Bernie, can't you write clearer?" Quinn allowed herself a small smile as she heard June scoff, "I'll have you know, I write perfectly clear."

"Yeah… maybe if you hold a magnifying glass up to it…" The girl retorted quietly with her soft voice.

Quinn's eyes widened and she covered her mouth up quickly to hold back a laugh. Peony didn't hold back and her laugh echoed throughout the room, "June, she's so right."

June huffed, but Quinn could see the smile in her eyes, "Whatever. Get back to work you guys."

"Well, we could if I could read the next part of the order!"

All the girls giggled and June dramatically stomped over to Mary before snatching up the notepad, "Oh, give me this. You must be blind."

The redhead cleared her throat and squinted down at the notepad, "A dozen gardenias wrapped… in…" She held the pad closer to her face and Mary giggled softly, "You can't even read it yourself."

June swatted her hand in Mary's general direction and muttered, "You know I took this order today you'd think I'd be able to remember…"

Peony sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, "Well, I'll get started on the part we _do_ know; a dozen gardenias. I'll go out and get them."

Peony walked off and Quinn crossed over to the others, "Maybe I can read it."

June handed the pad to Quinn and the blonde looked over the small scrawly handwriting, "A dozen gardenias w… rap…"

"Wrapped!" June cheered, "I totally knew that earlier!"

Mary just smiled her gentle smile and nodded her head, "Of course you did."

The blonde chuckled quietly at the two and squinted as she held the pad closer to her face, "Let's see… Wrapped in… a… l-i-g-h-t… okay light… g-r...e-e-n… green r-i… p? No, no, b! R-i-b-b-o-n. I got it! Light green ribbon!" She smiled brightly and danced in her place, "I did it!"

The other girls cheered and began making their way over to the wrapping station, when it hit her.

_Gardenias._

_Light green ribbon._

_Prom._

The pad dropped to the floor and her knees wobbled shakily. There was no way. There was no possible way.

The world twisted and turned in front of her eyes and blackness began pushing its way in from her peripheral. Just as she felt like she was falling, strong arms wrapped around her. She felt like noises were being screamed at her, but they were all muffled and faded.

She was sat carefully on the floor before water was being flicked at her. She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head, the vacuum that had been encasing her vanished and June's frantic voice finally reached her ears.

"Ivy! Ivy! Are you okay!"

She opened her eyes and looked around. June was beside her on the floor, her arms wrapped around the blondes waist, and Mary was standing in front of her; a concerned frown lacing her usually soft features.

Quinn breathed deeply and stood with the help of the others, "Yeah, yeah, I'm… I'm okay, just a little dehydrated I think. I haven't eaten since lunch either."

June helped her over to a chair, "I'll be right back. Mary, watch her."

The light-haired brunette nodded as she looked over Quinn's face. When the redhead was gone, Mary began running her fingers through Quinn's hair, "Are you okay?"

Quinn nodded slightly and gave the kind girl a soft smile. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Mary.

"I'm okay, just a little lightheaded is all."

Mary continued through the blonde hair and rested against the arm of the chair, "What's your name, Ivy?"

The blonde bit her lip softly and rested her head against the headrest, "My name is Quinn, what's yours?" She asked even though she already knew.

"My name is Lillian. Quinn is a very pretty name, I think."

Quinn smiled slightly, "Yeah, I like it. I think Lillian is a gorgeous name."

Mary smiled back shyly. Her mouth opened to say something, but it snapped shut when June walked back in with a bottle of water and package of peanut butter crackers.

"This will help," June said as she opened the water and handed it to Quinn. Quinn took it gratefully and took a long swig. She gestured the bottle towards Mary, "Do you want some?"

Mary shook her head and pushed the bottle back towards Quinn's lips, "You need it more than I do right now, Quinn."

From the corner of her eye the blonde saw June's eyebrow quirk up at the use of her real name, but the redhead said nothing of it.

Peony walked through the back door with a bundle of flowers and her eyes grew concerned when they landed on Quinn, "What's wrong?"

"She passed out," June said as she walked over and took the flowers from the girl.

Peony made it over to Quinn is two steps, "You passed out? Why? Are you okay?"

"I almost did, I'm okay. Just a little lightheaded," Quinn said quickly. She didn't want make the girls more concerned than they already were. Her heart welled up with love and care as she realized that these girls she barely knew were concerned over her well being.

Her eyes went to the pad that lay on the floor as she recalled what was written on the pad, _"A dozen gardenias, wrapped in a light green ribbon."_

That was exactly what her prom corsage had been. It could be just a coincidence. Gardenias are in season and green is a beautiful color to go with the flower. It had to be a coincidence… Right?

Mary bent over and retrieved the pad from the ground before handing it to Peony, "Here, print and read the card and maybe we can all laugh again."

Peony immediately obeyed the usually quiet girl and went to the computer to lay the card out.

Mary squatted down so she could be eye-level to Quinn, "Are you sure you're okay?"

The blonde smiled gently and nodded, "I promise. The water and crackers are helping. I think I can wrap the flowers now."

The small girl eyed her for a minute before standing and offering a hand, "Alright, let's get to it then, sis."

The blonde nodded and pushed the thoughts of prom out of her head.

June handed her the flowers, whose stems were now tied together by a light green ribbon, "Put the white paper around them and then wrap a green ribbon around that, too."

Quinn nodded and did as she was told before Peony's laugh echoed throughout the room, "This lady's card, you guys, it's priceless."

June chuckled and replied exasperatedly, "Read it, then!"

"So positively _gleeful_ for you. Love _always_ finds a way. Always thinking of you! Love, Barbara, Beth, and Noah."

Quinn's hands shook violently and she slammed them against the work table to stop them. She could feel all of their eyes on her, but in a low, trembling voice she demanded, "Read it again."

She could hear the confusion in Peony's voice, "O...kay… 'So positively gleeful for you. Love always finds a way. Always thinking of you… Love, Barbara, Beth, and Noah."

Tears gathered in her eyes and a sob fought it's way from her throat. There was absolutely _no way_ it could be a coincidence. The sobs gurgling up were replaced with laughter and she looked up to the ceiling muttering 'thank you's' and 'oh my word's'

She heard June say, "I think she's officially gone crazy," But she didn't care. Someone knew where she was. She laughed, _Barbara_, knew where she was.

_Rachel_, knew where she was.

She went up to Peony who was looking at her as if she had just grown another head, "You did say Barbara, Beth, and Noah, right? There was a fucking _gleeful_, in there?"

Peony nodded slowly, "Uh.. huh… yeah."

"You don't understand!" Quinn smiled and met all of their eyes, "Barbara is code for _Rachel_. Beth is the name of my _daughter._ Noah is the name of my daughters father! Gleeful is Rachel's way of saying Glee a club I'm in with her!"

Recognition sparked in Peony's eyes and Quinn's smile widened, "You understand! See?" She pointed to the card, "They know where I am!"

A hand clamped around her mouth from behind her and Quinn's eyes widened frightfully. She relaxed only slightly when she realized the hand was small and soft, not anything like James' or Fiona's.

June's voice spoke up quickly, "Ivy, you cannot go around screaming that. You're going to get hurt if Fiona hears you."

Quinn immediately felt shameful as she was let go of by June, "I'm sorry you're right… but, don't you see what this means? We're going to be saved!"

June narrowed her eyes, "You can't play around with stuff like this. You think you're all of a sudden going to be saved because of a stupid message on a card?"

Quinn furrowed her brows, "Yes. Yes I do."

"How would they know where you are, huh? If they did, wouldn't the cops have already been here to find you?"

"I don't know. Rachel always has a plan."

June stepped closer and shook her head, "It's just a big coincidence. These are just words on a card that go on a bouquet of flowers that are going to be picked up on Thursday by a woman named Barbara Starr - _not_ Rachel."

"Barbara… Starr. That's the name?"

"Yes, the order was placed by Barbara Starr."

Quinn smiled and shook her head fondly. _Rachel and her stars._

"And she's going to be here on Thursday to pick them up?"

"I already said all of this! Yes! Thursday!"

"She's probably coming to see if I'm really here or not."

"She needs to call the cops for that!"

"Well, I'm not her okay! I don't know what's going on in her head!"

"She doesn't know you're here! No one knows any of us are here! We're stuck here and no stupid coincidental card will convince me otherwise!"

Peony stepped between them and looked them each in the eye, "Stop it before Fiona comes in here. Stop getting angry just because you want to go home, Bernadette. You're scared and confused and you need to stop getting so damn defensive all the time. If Ivy here thinks she has someone out there coming for her, who are we to stop her? Just because your hope is dwindling doesn't mean that we have to make hers go away."

June deflated and looked away, her jaw still set.

"Ivy, don't yell about getting found, you're going to end up getting hurt, okay?" Peony said, directed towards Quinn this time.

Quinn sighed quietly, "I know, I'm sorry. I got excited."

Mary walked up and wrapped her arms around Quinn shyly, "I believe you."

Peony joined the hug and said, "It's highly unlikely, but if you say it's them, I'll believe you because you're my sister now."

The three girls looked at June who looked like she was having an intense internal debate with herself. She groaned and threw her hands up exasperatedly before she joined the group hug, "I'm sorry I got angry and said what I did. I just wish someone out there was looking for me, still."

Quinn pulled them all in tightly, "I'm pretty sure there is."

"And if there isn't, I'm sure Quinn's friend wouldn't mind taking us with them either," said Mary in her soft voice.

Quinn squeezed them all tighter as she realized that no matter how much Peony said this was her home it wasn't true, and no matter how quiet Mary was she still wanted to be heard and found, and no matter how angry June got she was still just a terrified teenager with a protective nature and a bad case of homesickness.

She closed her eyes and prayed her thanks for being given three strong girls, who she was determined she was going to save, as she whispered back, "I'm more than sure she wouldn't mind, Lil."

* * *

**A/N:** Oh my word, what do you think! I had so much fun writing this chapter haha. Comments, suggestions, ideas, thoughts, reviews, and concerns are all welcomed. I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you so much for reading, it's seriously the coolest thing to have people read my stuff. So, again, thank you so much, and I hope you'll stick around for the next chapter :)


	8. We're Having Company

**A/N:** Holy-fucking-moly it's an update! Helloooo everyone, how have you been? Hopefully wonderful. I apologize for taking practically three months to update, I've been very busy. I was the lead in the school play so that took up, pretty much, my entire two months of September and October. (By the way, the show went very well, making the most money any previous school play has ever made [not to toot my own horn or anything, ya know ;3]). Anywho! I've really missed this story, and I'm very excited to finally share it with you all. Enjoy! This chapter has not yet been edited; all mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

**Chapter Eight:** ~4,583 Words - Published 11/3/2014

**Warnings:** _Panic Attack mention; Threats._

* * *

**8:23 AM**

Her AP History class was only half way over and she wanted to scream she was so agitated. She couldn't tell if it was the way her morning had gone (a slushie facial and she'd forgotten her homework - she, Rachel Berry, had FORGOTTEN her homework!) or if it was the feeling in her gut constantly fading in and out like a bad radio signal.

She decided while snapping her pencil in half that it was definitely both.

Her hand shot up in the middle of Mr. Hartley's ramble about his back pain, and internally grumbled about this being history class not physical therapy.

"Rachel?"

"May I go to the nurse? I'm not feeling well."

"Sure. Now where was I… oh, right, Russia's defenses at the time were about as weak as my back."

Rachel rolled her eyes discreetly and tuned him out as she gathered her things and stalked out to the hallway.

She went to her locker first, swinging the door open, resulting in a large clang. She stuffed her book and bag in quickly before walking down the hall. Five minutes later she found herself walking up the football field bleachers.

She sat down quietly and overlooked the green grass with white numbers. She remembered sitting up here last year, watching the cheerleaders do round-offs and stunts. She remembered how her heart would catch in her throat every time Quinn would be thrown into the air, and she remembered how relief would flood through her veins every time the girl was caught. She hadn't known, then, what those feelings meant, but as she thought about it now, it was more than clear.

She rested her chin in her palm as she thought about how yesterday had been rather droll. She and Puck had driven around rather aimlessly, especially since the tug was silent and she already had an idea of where Quinn might be. Of course, Puck didn't know that, so maybe to him the drive wasn't pointless.

Jitters attacked her insides as she thought of how later this afternoon she would making her way to Saginaw, Michigan in order to find Quinn. Maybe she could burst through the door and take them all by surprise. The kidnapper would be so shocked that she could just easily kick them where the sun don't shine, grab Quinn, and flee the scene - dialing 911 through the whole process. Or, perhaps she could sneak around the back of the house. She could scale the wall with suction cups and then cut a hole through the roof and rescue the blonde that way. Or, maybe, she could go in, as if nothing was wrong. She could sit there as if she was undercover - laugh with the enemy, make friends with the enemy, then after a few well placed somersaults, flips, and kicks, she could kiss the princess she so valiantly saved over the passed out body of the enemy on the floor and then ride away into the sunset on a beautiful horse.

"Are you humming the Mission Impossible theme song?"

Rachel squeaked in surprise and jumped at the voice. A mohawked figure made its way up the stairs as she stuttered her reply, "A-absolutely not, Noah Puckerman! I was just… warming up my vocal cords."

His arm went around her waist and her head rested on his shoulder as he let out a laugh, "Right. Were you about to bust out in song all alone out here?"

Rachel smirked and shrugged, "Would you really put it past me?"

He just shook his head in silent laughter and disbelief.

"How'd you know I was up here?" She asked.

"I was under the bleachers. Just saw you walk up."

"You should be in class, Noah."

The boy just squeezed her gently and replied, "Yeah, but so should you."

* * *

She'd been drifting in and out of sleep for what she figured was a few hours. Her limbs were restless and she wanted to move, run, fly - anything to get the pulsing restlessness out of her muscles.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned before sitting up. It had been so long since she had been able to workout. The strain she put on her body usually blocked out anything and everything, but being stuck here, cuffed, for days, put a big restraint on her ability to exercise the world away. Her body was begging her for some sort of physical motion. She felt physically ill from not exercising for as long as she had; her body was conditioned for it now, her body needed the pain, the energy release, the pressure of her feet pounding against pavement.

After she had given up Beth, she was a wreck. She was emotionally unstable, and though she did her best to hide it, at the end of the day she'd crawl into bed and cry because there wasn't a crib in the corner of the room, or baby toys littering the floor; but most importantly because there weren't small cries to wake her up in the middle of the night, or a small warm body to hold close to her when those nights were hard. She knew, deep down, that giving her daughter the opportunity to have a better life was the right choice, but as she would lay in bed those nights she couldn't help but feel like she made a mistake.

To rid herself of those thoughts during the day, Quinn threw herself into her exercises with more force than ever before. Sure, she had ran pretty fiercely before she had gotten pregnant, but during her early pregnancy and after giving birth, she ran or did pushups or did _something_ until she couldn't breathe; simply because it helped her forget. She could tune out, forget the world, forget her problems, forget those beautiful, tiny hazel eyes, or forget those blazing, hate-filled ones eyes of her father, and just be. Just be a speck on the map. Just a girl running. Just a girl running for her life when everyone else believed that she led _the_ life.

She sighed as she sat up and looked at the dusty floor. With her ankles being uncuffed she could workout. To workout and get the restlessness out on the dirty floor or to sit in the dirty cot with annoying pulses travelling through her? She shrugged. She hadn't taken a shower in what felt like forever. The one shower she had, had while encaptured lasted three minutes and consisted entirely of cold water and a homemade bar of soap, so, honestly, she figured she couldn't get much dirtier than she already was.

She crawled onto the floor and began doing push ups. She glared at the floor and grumbled when she realized that she was already trembling after seventeen of them. She pushed harder against the floor and steadied her shaking arms before bending her elbows and getting through fifteen more. She laid on her back and began doing some crunches. Her chest rose quickly as her breaths became more labored. She hated that these simple exercises were affecting her so much so quickly. She forced herself to do fifty crunches before rolling over and doing twenty more pushups.

Her mind roved over thoughts of yesterday. It had been a relatively quiet day; James had been out yesterday, Fiona fed her and the girls surprisingly large helpings, and June had let her borrow a book to read - _The Island of Dr. Moreau_ by the classic author H.G. Wells. Not only had she been able to read for the first time in ages, which sufficiently improved her mood, she also had renewed hope that there were people - more specifically Rachel - out there looking for her. Life yesterday was far from perfect, but it had definitely been a much-needed break.

She climbed back onto the bed and stretched her limbs. The energy coursing through her body was familiar and felt amazing as she stood back up and began doing jumping jacks as quietly as possible.

But, apparently, not quiet enough.

A loud knock rang throughout the room, and she quickly sat on the bed and took deep breaths to calm her racing heart - both from the exercise and the startling shot of adrenaline from the knock.

"Ivy!" James' gruff voice came through the thin wood and made Quinn's heart drop.

"Yes, sir?" Quinn replied evenly as she instinctively curled her knuckles into fists, and stepped closer to the door.

The door opened and a very hungover James' stood on the other side. The man held his forehead and glared at Quinn dazedly; "Fiona and I are having company over today. You, my lovely daughter, will introduce yourself as Ivy - and _only_ Ivy, you understand? You were adopted a couple of weeks ago, and you're _very_ happy here, got it?"

James' stomped over and leaned down to Quinn's face. The blonde swallowed thickly and pushed down the urge to gag as James' hot, alcoholic breath, that reminded her all too well of her father, washed over her; "If you try anything funny this afternoon there will be Hell. To. Pay. Understand? The girls won't be able to save you this time. You will be mine. Even my precious baby June won't be able to stop me from punishing you."

Though Quinn's body was practically trembling in fear, her voice came out steady and calm - almost chipper, "Yes, sir. I wouldn't have it any other way."

The man eyed her before standing to his full length, "Good. Now, go get cleaned up. The girls will help you." And with that, James' stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

**8:43 AM**

Rachel sighed quietly and laid her head on Puck's shoulder. Around ten minutes ago she could feel the tug in her stomach alerting her that Quinn had woken up. The shaky, restless agitation left her body as subtle burning in her muscles began to flare up; as if she had just gone on a quick sprint or had done twenty pull-ups.

Puck's arm wrapped around Rachel's torso and he rested his head on hers, "So, do you have any plans for today? Want to go driving or something?"

Rachel let out a breath and contemplated telling Puck about going up to Dominic's grandparents house. She knew that if Dominic's grandparents were the kidnappers that it would be very dangerous going up alone. She would need someone out there to protect her. Of course, Dominic would be going with her… He would protect her, wouldn't he? But then again, what if Dominic's grandparents _weren't_ the kidnappers? There's a big chance that her subconscious was just making everything up - the gut feelings, the florist connection - and Rachel just didn't realize it.

"I'm going up to Saginaw, Michigan with one of my friends from dance class."

"What for?"

Rachel shrugged as casually as she could, "He wants me to meet his grandparents."

"Why? Are you guys, like, dating or something?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and swatted at the boy, "Of course not. You know there are multiple reasons why I would not want, be willing, or be comfortable with dating him right now."

Puck lifted his head from Rachel's and met her eyes, "Because you love Quinn, right?"

Rachel swallowed and looked out at the green field marked with white paint that she wished Quinn was on right now instead of trapped somewhere in Michigan. Her head nodded softly, "Right."

"What's the guys name? Should I be worried about him?"

"No, he's really nice. His name is Dominic."

"Oh, he's that one you told me about right, babe? You were supposed to go on that date with him weren't you?" Puck chuckled and shook his head, "What was that about not being comfortable dating him?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and huffed as she crossed her arms in front of her, "Noah, I will have you know that, yes, I previously was slightly enamored with Dominic, but that is come and gone since the events that have taken place. I realized my true emotions and though they were found through a very difficult, terrible circumstance I have now fully understood that my feelings for Quinn have been there beneath the surface the entire time. With my feelings for Quinn there is no possible way I could ever betray her nor my heart by dating another individual, let alone hurt the other individual - in this instance Dominic - by leading them on in such a manner."

"I lost you after 'enamored'," Puck replied with a grimace.

"Noah!"

"Kidding! I'm kidding!" Puck said as he raised his hands defensively.

Rachel swatted his arm, "Not funny."

The two settled back down, just taking comfort in the fact that they were there together - each working through the motions of coping with the difficult last week and a half.

* * *

Quinn's pale knuckles rapped on the dark wooden door of Mary and Peony's room, "Peony, are you in there?"

The door opened not long after to reveal a disheveled Peony rubbing her eyes tiredly, "Yeah, I'm in here."

Quinn stepped in quickly and frowned at how out-put the girl looked, "Are you okay?"

The girl yawned and nodded, "Yep," she gestured over to Mary still sleeping on her cot, "I was just up a lot last night because the lil' one was having nightmares again." Quinn lips tilted up ever so slightly when she realized Peony's accent came out when she was tired.

Quinn sat gingerly on the edge of Mary's bed and brushed the stray hairs from her face, "She has nightmares?"

Peony nodded distractedly as she clambered around the cramped room in search for some regular clothes, "Yeah. Hasn't had 'em in a while though. Weird."

Quinn's slender fingers raked through Mary's hair softly. Her eyes looked over the soft freckles that littered the girls face.

"Why are you looking at her like that?" Peony asked in her usual fake accent now that she was more awake.

Quinn tilted her head as she examined the young girl, "She's so young, Paige," The blonde could see the blue-eyed brunette stand up straighter at the use of her real name from her peripheral vision, "We're all so, so young."

Peony's voice cracked for a split second, barely enough to hear if you weren't paying attention, before she spoke, "Yeah, so?"

"How old are you, really?" Quinn asked, glancing quickly over at Peony before going back to look at the peaceful girl beside her.

"I, uhm," Peony coughed, as if to give herself time to think, and busied herself again by looking for clothes, "Well… I was thirteen when I was taken and uh, I've been around here for three years now, so I guess that makes me sixteen, doesn't it?"

Quinn's head shot up and her jaw dropped, "Wait, you're younger than I am?"

Peony shrugged in faux nonchalance and ran her hand through her long, brown hair, "Well, if you're older than sixteen, I guess I am."

Quinn rose her eyebrows in surprise, "Wow, I could've sworn you were older. At least seventeen like me. You seem so mature and smart."

Peony shook her head and scoffed, "Yeah, you learn to grow the hell up when you're abducted and raped and forced to act four years older than you really are."

Quinn's eyes widened and her voice pleaded, "No, Paige, that's not what I meant!"

Quinn moved to get up, but Peony shook her head angrily, "Save it, Princess," Peony spit out and stalked to the door, "Oh, and don't call me Paige, got it?" She stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.

The bed jumped under Quinn as Mary shot up violently, "Mom, what! What is it, what's wrong?"

Quinn bit her lip sadly and let the 'mom' thing slide, figuring she must have been dreaming about her parents, "Peony and I just got in a disagreement."

The smaller girl rubbed her eyes before peeking out at the blonde, "Oh, hi, Quinn."

"Hey," Quinn replied softly, "I heard you were having bad dreams last night."

Mary nodded, "Yeah. I haven't had them in a long time. I usually get them before something big happens in the house. I sorta have a sixth sense, you know."

Quinn quirked her eyebrow at the sentence that sounded awfully familiar to one Rachel had said before, "Really, now?"

The girl nodded before standing and stretching the knots out of her back, "Yeah. So we all have to try and be extra good around the house."

Quinn bit her lip and glanced over at the door Peony had stormed out of just moments prior, "I'm not sure how well that's going to go… Peony and I got in a little fight earlier."

Mary furrowed her brows and placed her hands on her hips, "What did you two do? We have to be good!"

Quinn couldn't help but find Mary's stance incredibly adorable, she was just like an angry kitten with no claws to scratch with. She bit down her smile and took a breath, "I said something that upset her. I didn't mean to upset her, really, I didn't. She just got really defensive when I asked her about her age."

Mary's eyes lit up with understand and she breathed out an, "Ohh.."

"What? Has this happened before?"

Mary sat next to Quinn and nodded, "Put simply, she doesn't like to be reminded that she missed out on all of her teenage years. What exactly did you tell her?"

Heaviness fell on Quinn's heart as she realized why what she had said upset the pretty blue-eyed girl so much, "Oh, goodness, I told her that she seems very mature and smart for her age."

Mary nodded and hugged Quinn gently, "It's not your fault, you didn't know. She's just sad that she _is_ mature and smart. She's upset that she _has_ to be. She's, what, sixteen now? For the past three years she should have been learning in school and figuring life out through silly mistakes or partying too hard; not learning about life in the most horrible way possible, you know?"

Quinn buried her head in her hands and groaned, "Oh god, I'm such a horrible person!"

"Shhh, no, no, you had no idea. Everyone here has something that affects them more than others. Peony is sensitive about how she's missed out on life, I'm sensitive about talking about my mom, June struggles with opening up on just about any subject," The pair chuckled softly, "And you…" Mary trailed off softly, allowing Quinn time to figure out what she struggled talking about with the other girls.

"And I'm sensitive about talking about pain and mistakes," Quinn whispered back gently.

Mary smiled gently and placed her hand over Quinn's, "Yeah, see? We all have something, but you didn't know that until now. Go talk to her, okay?"

Quinn nodded as the guilt settled in her stomach like a dead weight, "Okay." She shuffled over to the door and turned back, "Oh, and James said that we were going to have company today and that you three would help me get ready? I'm assuming that there's special guidelines when guests come?"

Mary's eyes widened and Quinn immediately felt even more sick to her stomach, "What, what's that look for?"

Mary waved her hands out as if to shoo Quinn away, "No, no, go talk to Peony, Ivy. I'll go find the right clothes for you to wear. After you've figured things out with her, please tell her that we will have company. She'll help you get ready. Then, tell her to come talk to me, please."

Quinn's face morphed into an expression of confusion, "Oookay…"

Mary was digging through the closet quickly and turned back with a tight yet still genuine smile, "It's okay, I promise. I have to get ready, please go talk to Peony. Sisters fighting is never a good thing."

Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, "Okay," before heading out the door to find Peony.

~0~

"Peony?" Quinn called quietly as she knocked on the bathroom door.

"What do you want?" A sharp reply called back.

Quinn closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the door frame, "Peony… I'm really, really sorry. What I said was inconsiderate to how you feel, and it was wrong of me say something that hurt you. You're my sister now, and I really do care a lot about you. I'm sorry I pried into your personal information."

It was quiet, and Quinn was about to give up and walk away when the door opened. A puffy eye Peony looked back and Quinn gasped sadly as she moved to wrap her arms around the broken girl; "Oh, Peony, I'm so sorry; I'm sorry."

The girl latched onto Quinn desperately, as if she might slip away into oblivion if she didn't. Quiet sobs fell from the girl and Quinn gently shushed them away and rocked the crying girl.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into the brown hair, "I'm sorry I said what I did. I didn't mean to upset you."

The younger girl sniffled gently and shook her head against the blonde's shoulder, "No, no, it's not your fault," The young girl replied in her native accent, "There's no way you could have known that what you said would have set me off. I just… I know I act all tough sometimes, but damn Ivy, I just… I really hope that card from a couple of days ago really means your friend is coming... I just… really want to go home."

A fresh flow of tears left Peony's eyes and Quinn held her tighter, with a new resolve to protect her and the other girls at all costs.

~0~

Peony sniffled softly into Quinn's shoulder and grimaced at the wet spot she saw there, "Oh, wow, ew, I'm so sorry."

Quinn just chuckled softly and shook her head, "No, don't worry about it. I don't mind." Quinn quickly pushed back any thoughts of babies with blonde hair leaving those same kind of spots on her shoulder.

Peony nodded and pried herself away from Quinn slowly, obviously not wanting to, and cleared her throat, "I guess we should get ready for the day, huh?"

"Yes, oh! By the way, James told me to tell all the girls that we'll be having visitors today and that you guys would help me get ready."

Peony's eyes widened similarly to Mary's and Quinn got the same uneasy feeling in her stomach, "What?"

The brunette just shook her head and walked over to the tub. She turned the shower on to full force. All the vulnerability in her voice from earlier was gone, and the commanding, in-control Peony was back with full-force "The girls and I will tell you later, but everything has to be done quickly and perfectly right now. Take a shower, a good one - twenty minutes at least. Wash your hair twice, shave, rinse, and repeat, okay? New razors are under the sink, along with the good body wash and shampoo. I'll bring you in some clothes."

Quinn's confusion fogged her mind. She desperately wanted to know what the big deal was. There was obviously something more to all of this besides just having to act like she was actually an ecstatic adopted teenager to a few guests. She trusted her sisters though and decided she would wait until they were ready to tell her.

"Okay, thank you," Quinn said with a small smile; the thought of a long, clean shower was enough to let her push aside any unwanted thoughts, "Mary said she wanted to talk to you, by the way."

Peony's steely eyes met Quinn's and she gave a quick, concise nod, "Alright, thanks, Ivy. Remember, no less than twenty minutes. Make sure every single crevice of your body is clean." Peony turned towards the door and started to make her way out, but she stopped before stepping out into the hallway. The brunette turned back to Quinn with warmer eyes, "Oh, and… thanks for everything earlier. You… You can call me Paige if you want. I mean, if you really are going to get us all rescued tomorrow I should probably get used to hearing it again, right?"

Quinn's smile widened and she bit her lip to try and hide it, "Yeah, you're most definitely right."

The girl at the door stared a little while longer as if she was in deep thought, before turning around and closing the door behind her.

* * *

**3:10 PM**

Rachel's knee bounced nervously as Puck drove her home. The feeling in her gut wasn't from her connection with Quinn, but for once it was from her own fear and nervousness; she was practically ready to call the whole mission to Saginaw off and go hide in a hole. But, she knew better than that. She knew that this was her chance to be brave and really find out if Quinn was where she thought she was.

Puck's truck slowed to a stop in front of the Berry residence before Puck spoke, "Jew Babe, are you feeling okay? You're shaking the entire truck."

Rachel hopped out of the vehicle and gave Puck a smile, "Yep, I'm fine. Just nervous about meeting new people is all."

"You? Usually you'd be all over meeting new people - trying to make them your future fans or whatever."

Rachel shrugged, "I don't know, Noah, I guess I just feel a little sick. I'm fine, though, just go home and play some video games or something, okay?"

Rachel shut the door before she could hear Puck's response as she ran to her front door. She opened it quickly, shutting and locking it behind her, before taking the stairs two at a time.

She paced quickly, both of her hands shaking violently as she fought the urge to vomit. Her breaths came out short and she clenched and unclenched her fists incessantly.

She looked in her mirror and talked in broken sentences, "O-okay, Rachel, y-you're having a pan-pan-panic attack."

Tears unwillingly gathered in her eyes as she continued to pace, "You're fine. Fine. You're fine, R-Rachel. Breathe, okay? One breath in," She took one shaky breath in, "Out," and one shaky breath out.

She stopped, again, in front of the mirror desperately fighting the urge to sit on the floor and rock, "You have r-read all the f-facts on-on-online about panic a-attacks. Y-you're safe and pr-prepared. You're h-here. Here. Look, you're here. Nothing's going to happen, n-nothing can hurt you. You're here."

She closed her eyes tightly, and lost the battle as she began rocking on her heels.

"You're here. You're right here, in your h-home. You can do this. You're R-Rachel Berry. You're a star, you're able to do this. Y-y-you have fought this long and prevailed in every other as-aspect of your e-en-entire life. Y-you're going to find Quinn. You're not going to f-f-fail o-or get hurt. You're going to s-save her. Y-You have to. She doesn't de-de-deserve the situation she's in. Even if she d-doesn't love you, or l-l-like you, Quinn Fabray does not d-deserve to be in p-pain. You l-love her."

She opened her eyes and met watery but fiercely determined ones in the mirror. Her violent shakes slowed to tremors and the rocking ceased.

"You love her."

* * *

**A/N:** There it is! I hope you enjoyed it. It's been months since I've written, so I hope it was still up to your expectations. I would love to read any reviews, comments, questions, suggestions, thoughts, or concerns that you might have - they keep me motivated and involved with the story! Thank you so much for reading, it really means the world to me :)


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